


Over the years

by miss_eee



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Southside Serpent Jughead Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-01 22:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12714495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_eee/pseuds/miss_eee
Summary: Some people come into your lives and change everything you ever knew.





	1. Meeting

_Sick of all these people talking, sick of all this noise_  
Tired of all these cameras flashing, sick of being poised  
-Castle, Halsey

 

High school was everything she had never thought it would be. Two years left, and she had nothing to show for it, except an impressive resume of Junior Class President, Editor of the Blue and Gold student paper, ranked #1 in her class, and a River Vixen. She had never been to a high school party, never had a boyfriend or even been on a proper date. She played everything safe, never pushing the rules or disobeying her parents. She lived her life for her mother- her mother expected nothing less than perfection from her youngest daughter, and the grasp had only tightened after her older sister had become pregnant while still in high school. No, now her mother’s push for perfection fell entirely on her, and she often felt like she was suffocating. All she wanted was a night of fun, a night away from the perfectness she would never be.

 

She pulled her thick pastel pink cardigan tighter around her- the fall air was brisker than it had been this morning. Her tan boots crunched the leaves underneath her feet, as she hurried across the sidewalk to the sleek, black car waiting in the road. She pulled the handle, pulling the door open, thankful for the burst of warm air. She slid into the seat, buckling herself in, before taking stock of the raven-haired girl sitting next to her. 

 

“Sorry, V. My mom was grilling me about our plans tonight.” 

 

“You didn’t tell her where we were going, did you?”

 

“Of course, Mama Coop has no idea, she’d never let Betty out of the house if she knew!” A brunette boy turned around from the front seat, smirking at her. She knew his words were true, if her mother really knew where they were going, there was no way she’d have let her out of the house.

 

“No, I told her we were studying at the Pembrooke.”

 

“Good. I’m glad you got away, I’m excited to introduce you guys.”

 

She sank back into the seat, feeling a breath of relief at having momentarily escaped her mother’s tight grasp. The glare of the street lights caught her eye, and she felt mesmerized by the glow of her reflection in the car window. Outlined in red, with a yellow glare, she felt a sense of freedom, that this night could hold endless possibilities. 

 

“So, tell me again how you met him?” She turned her head slightly towards the girl next to her, taking in her dark curls that hung over her dark black coat, the slightest hint of pearls peeking out from the collar of the thick wool. As usual, she felt underdressed in her black leggings, white button-up and pink sweater, her blonde hair tied back in its usual ponytail. 

 

“His dad is handling a construction project for daddy. I brought Pop’s one-day last week to him at the job site, and he was there working for his dad. Tall, broad shouldered and ginger, you know I couldn’t resist.” Of course, she couldn’t, Veronica Lodge often bragged about having “every flavor of guy except for ginger,” and the usual suspects of Riverdale High had all been vetted and deemed not worthy of her affections. 

 

Although they were the closest of friends, the two girls often seemed polar opposites, the only common ground the blue and gold uniform they both wore on Friday nights. Veronica came from money, a large penthouse apartment downtown, personal driver, pearls every day. She was more upper middle class, her parents ran the local newspaper, and although it was profitable, and their house was sizable, the Cooper’s were a far cry from living in the lap of luxury that the Lodge’s did. Veronica preferred dark colors, dresses and skirts always, while she favored jeans, pastel colors and cardigans. Somehow, despite the lack of common ground, their friendship had flourished in the past few years, and she was thankful that Veronica always seemed to know when an escape was needed. 

 

Her head was turned, still staring out the window as the car headed south. She’d been to this part of town before, her father took his cars to a mechanic over here, but she still marveled at the differences. The town she knew was full of tree-lined streets with large houses and white picket fences, here- the houses were smaller, most had a motorcycle parked in the driveway. It felt eerie almost, the way the scattered street lights cast uneven shadows across the street. A short 15-minute drive and one school district over, and everything felt different. A sense of panic started to wash over her, she felt her fingers curl tight into her palms as she thought of her mother’s reaction if she knew she was here. The car slowed to a stop in front of a small blue house, a rusted yellow truck and two motorcycles sitting in the driveway. 

 

She hesitated for just a moment before exiting the car, pulling her hair tighter in her ponytail, tugging the edges of her sweater down. The brunette boy from the front seat had opened the door for her, holding his hand out for hers. 

 

“You look great, Bets. Besides- these Southside boys are used to doom and gloom, you’ll look like an angel to them.”

 

“Thanks, Kev. I’m glad you came along.”

 

“Wouldn’t miss this. Two of Riverdale’s most sought after bachelorettes searching for love on the southside of town... besides, Ronnie said he’s got a friend that swings my way.” Her eyes shot up to meet his, finding his brown eyes full of laughter and sparkle. 

 

“I knew you had a motive more than making sure we were safe!” Her elbow nudged his side, before slinking her arm under his, gripping his elbow tightly as the three friends walked slowly towards the door.  
Stepping up to the door, that sense of panic returned again. What in the world were they doing here, on the wrong side of town, meeting up with a boy Veronica had only met for a matter of minutes. The two motorcycles sitting in the driveway only added to the growing feeling in the pit of her stomach, that this was not a good place.

 

Veronica’s hand was curled to knock on the door, but suddenly it flew open, and she watched in horror as her best friend was scooped up and pulled across the threshold by two strong, thick arms. Once Veronica had settled back on the ground, never wavering once on her high heels, she got a better glance at the tall, well-built red-head that stood before her. Jeans and a Southside Football t-shirt that pulled across his chest, his shock of red hair made him look unintimidating, and the way he nudged into Veronica’s side reminded her of a puppy whose owner had just came home. Still standing alongside Kevin on the front porch, she could hear a series of expletives coming from inside the house, but the redhead in front of her seemed oblivious to the noise, instead, reaching his hand out to her, smiling and pulling her forward.

 

“Archie Andrews, this is Betty Cooper, and Kevin Keller.” Veronica politely went thru introductions, nodding her head at each of her friends. 

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Veronica hasn’t stopped talking about you all week.” Veronica shot Kevin a piercing glance.

 

“Well, the feelings mutual, because I haven’t stopped talking about her either.” She observed the way he chided her, pulling her tighter into his side. “Come on in, meet the guys.”

 

As soon she stepped into the foyer, she was overtaken with an array of smells. Cigarettes, stale beer, old sweat and a hint of leather. Glancing into the room to her right, she saw them, the source of the expletives she’d heard earlier. One laid out on his stomach, one rocking back in a black leather gaming chair. Both were equipped with headsets and controllers, and seemed oblivious to the fact that they were no longer alone. Veronica’s heels on the hardwood floor pulled the one laying on the floor out of his game-induced trance, as he quickly rolled around and then sat up to his knees. 

 

He was handsome- chiseled jawline with dark brown hair falling in his face. His eyes were brown, staring intensely at the group that stood before him. He stood up, and she was surprised to see that he was not much taller than she was, but broad-shouldered like his red headed friend. His glare was intimidating, and for not the first time tonight, she felt panic begin to set in. 

 

“Jug, get up. Archie invited the preppies over.” He kicked the black chair next to him, it rocked once more before the boy sitting in the chair stopped it, standing up and turning around. 

 

His eyes glanced around, taking in the three friends, not moving closer to them. His shaggy dark hair fell in his face, that which wasn’t held back by a grey beanie. He was tall, towering almost, not as thickly built as the other two, but she could see he was still well built through the simple grey shirt he wore. She felt her breath catch in her throat, her mouth went dry. His eyes trailed over her body, before he glanced up to meet her gaze. Sharp grey eyes staring straight into hers, she was frozen. There was something both dangerous and soft in the look he gave her, his eyes staring into her soul. 

 

“Oh, I’m calling dibs on that one.” 

 

“I think he’s already taken Kev.” Their voices were soft, Kevin and Veronica, whispering to each other next to her, but they had pulled her out of her trance. Suddenly, she felt herself breathed back into reality, remember who she was and everything she was raised to be. 

 

She pushed herself across the room, the heel of her boot breaking into the silence. She crossed first to the one who had sat on the floor, reaching her hand out to shake his, before turning to the tall one wearing the beanie. He grasped her hand, the electricity pulsing through his grip. 

 

“Betty Cooper.” Pink rushed to her face, but she refused to falter as her eyes danced up to meet his, challenging him. 

 

“Jughead Jones.” 

-

 

He sank back into the couch, trying desperately not to steal a glance at the blonde that set so precariously on the edge of the couch next to him. She had sauntered right into his dark world, he had frozen until she touched his hand, and now everything felt foreign. This was not the house of his best friend, that he’d spent more nights in than his own. This was not the couch he’d crashed on after many an all-night gaming binge. He tried to focus on the rest of room, watching Joaquin flirt with the tall brunette boy, watching the raven-haired girl curled up into Archie’s lap, covering her face in his shirt when a particularly scary part of the movie came on. 

 

He’d forgotten they’d even picked out a movie. _The Cabin in the Woods._ One of his all-time favorites, it was both classic and offbeat at the same time. She surprised him when she said she’d seen it before, he couldn’t believe all of her blonde-hair-pink-cardigan-ponytail-wearing-self had ever seen any horror movie ever. He imagined her locked away in a castle, only attending approved functions, pushed by her parents to be the definition of perfection. If it weren’t for Archie and his run-in with Riverdale’s royalty last week, the chances of him ever meeting this blonde that sat next to him, were slim to none. 

 

She stirred, pulling him out of his trance, as she leaned closer to his side of the couch. 

 

“Umm, Jughead?” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, not wanting to interrupt the others who were so clearly not watching the movie. “Do you know where the kitchen is?” 

 

He started to blurt out a sarcastic comment, about how he lived here too, but he didn’t want it to come off as insensitive or rude. “Come on, I’ll show you.” He reached over, grabbing her hand to help her from the couch, and felt that surge of electricity he’d felt when she introduced herself to him. Who greets someone by shaking their hand when their 16? Probably the type of girl who was raised in a home that served dinner promptly at 6 every evening. 

 

Flicking on the bright kitchen light was blinding, but away from the dark living room, he could see her better. She was striking- blonde golden hair, soft features, the pale pink of her sweater and the stark white of her blouse only seemed to accent her porcelain skin. Once again, he found himself frozen in place, taking in the beauty in front of him. She opened the cupboard next to the sink, finding glasses in the first time, and pulling down two. The sound of the cupboard door closing seemed to pull him back into reality, reminding him that he practically lived here, and he knew his way around this kitchen better than she did. 

 

He reached into the freezer, pulling out the ice tray and placing a few cubes in each glass before opening the refrigerator door. 

 

“Archie’s dad has been out of town, so our choices are limited. Beer, water, or orange juice that may be past its expiration date.” He glanced slightly to where she stood on the other side of the kitchen, leaned back against the counter. Something in her eyes danced at his joke, and the most beautiful half smile he’d ever seen split across her face.

 

“Water’s fine, thanks.” 

 

When he handed her a glass, his fingers brushed against hers, and he felt it again, that spark of electricity. There was something about her, the stark contrast of her bright with his dark, the polite way she carried herself, the way her eyes caught his, he needed to know her. He needed to know everything about her, and for once, he found himself terrified. 

 

Jughead Jones did not date girls. Not that he was inexperienced or unattractive- he rode a motorcycle and wore a leather jacket, girls were not a problem. His problem seemed to be with emotional attachment. It didn’t take a therapist or some weird psychoanalysis to pinpoint the exact moment that he had shut off all human emotion- probably around the time that his father had assumed leadership of a local motorcycle gang, (the same one whose emblem was draped across the black jacket that he had haphazardly discarded somewhere by the front door). His mother, who seemed to be even more void of human emotion than he was, had packed her things, and along with his younger sister, left in the middle of the night. The last postcard from them had been post stamped from Toledo, but that had been well over a year ago. When she’d left, it’d broken something inside of him that no string of Serpent groupies had been able to fix. But this girl, this blonde vision of perfection from the other side of the tracks, there was something different about her.

 

She shifted uncomfortably against the counter, and he realized he’d been staring at her again, for how long he wasn’t sure. 

 

“So… umm.. Betty?” He felt like he’d lost all of his moves, all of his smoothness when he talked to her, like he was instantly some fumbling prepubescent boy. 

 

“Jughead?” There was something in her voice, hesitant and full of confusion. She needed to know, she needed to know why she really was here. He crossed the room, placing his glass next to her before leaning back on the counter. 

 

“Did Veronica tell you the real reason Archie invited you guys here tonight?” 

 

“No, I just figured it was because she wanted to spend more time with him. Seeing as how you’re his best friend, and I’m hers, we’ll probably be seeing more of each other.”

 

“Right. Specifically, next Saturday, at Southside’s Homecoming dance. Apparently, I’m supposed to ask you to go with me.” 

 

“Well, maybe if you ask nicely I’ll say yes.” Her eyes darted up to meet his again, that spark dancing behind the brilliant green. There was something about this girl, she was more than just blonde perfection.


	2. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was sure that in his lifetime, he would never forget how she looked in this moment.

There are certain moments, that right there, in that moment, you know this is something you’ll remember for the rest of your life. Jughead Jones was sure this was one of those times. 

 

In the foyer of an expansive gold and white apartment palace on the North side of town, were three boys masquerading as men, their leathers and lettermen jackets replaced with fitted suits and plastic boxes containing flowers. He rocked back and forth on his heels, both nervous and excited. 

 

He’d spent the better part of the week texting back and forth with her, this blonde ponytail that had come in and upended his world. He had been surprised to find that she matched his sarcastic comments with her own sharp and witty quips, but he was more surprised to find that he wasn’t all that surprised at all. He was quickly finding out that this perfect girl from the other side of town, was so much more than the pastel sweaters she wore first let on. Sure, she was smart and gorgeous, but there was something else about her too, that he hadn’t quite figured out yet. He wasn’t used to girls making him nervous, but all week long, every time his phone had beeped with a new message from her, his heart had skipped. 

 

Standing there now, in this place that was all too fancy for him, he could feel the clamminess of his hands, the sweat that was making them try to stick together. He ran his hands down his pants, trying to find some relief from the moisture. His two companions were no help- Archie had taken to pacing around the large marble tiled lobby, and Joaquin had wandered away and was touching a large vase in the center of the room, under the watchful eye of the security guard. 

 

Time stopped though, when the elevator dinged, signaling its arrival to the main floor. He stood, frozen in place, watching as the doors opened, and like a halo of light surrounding her, this blonde angel stepped out. He didn’t notice the other two with her, didn’t even take notice of what she was wearing, he saw only her face. He stayed frozen, seemingly unable to move at all, only watching her, as she swayed across the room towards him, that same half smile he’d seen the week before that he knew he’d never forget. 

 

She reached for his hand once she was next to him and the spark that passed between them seemed to jolt him back to life. He was sure that in his lifetime, he would never forget how she looked in this moment. Her top was sheer white, lacy and long-sleeved, and hit just above the floral and white skirt, showing barely a sliver of her flat stomach. Her hair was down, falling in loose waves down her back, and although he suspected she’d spent hours doing her makeup, even up close he couldn’t tell. He reached his hand up, spinning her around, and marveling at the way the top dipped so low in the back, the way the skirt flared and flowed out. He felt his heart skip again, knowing how she would stand out in the sea of black that was Southside High, but when she sank into his side and her eyes danced up to meet his, he knew it would be worth it. 

 

_

 

She felt like she was playing with fire when she sank into his side, his arm coming around to rest on her shoulder, pulling her in closer. For the second weekend in a row, her mother had no idea where she really was going or who she was with, and it felt exhilarating. There was something inside of her though, maybe the butterflies that had migrated from her stomach to her throat when she first stepped off the elevator and saw him, that made her think the feeling wasn’t from rebelling against her mother, but instead towards the boy who had traded his leather jacket for a suit jacket for her. 

 

He looked devilishly handsome in his dark grey suit, a crisp white dress shirt, choosing to keep the grey crown beanie and lose the tie. One unruly curl fell from the beanie, grazing across his face. She wasn’t sure what came over her, but she found herself reaching up to brush it aside, marveling at how soft his hair felt, and wondering what it looked like without the wool cap. 

 

He had come out of nowhere and blindsided her with all of these feelings and emotions she hadn’t been sure she would ever feel. It’d only been a week since she shook his hand in Archie’s living room, but that week had been spent in an almost constant slew of text messages and one late night phone call, that had left her wanting to know more about this mysterious boy. She’d learned he liked to read true crime novels and wanted to publish a novel, that he preferred 90’s grunge rock over the music of today, and that he’d watch anything by Tarantino. She still had questions about that black leather jacket he wore, what exactly that meant to him, but he’d chosen to cast it aside for the night, so she figured she would as well. 

 

Veronica’s heels sounded loudly across the marble tile of the Pembrooke entrance as she rounded up the small group, directing them outside to where her driver was waiting. Tonight, the standard black sedan had been traded in for a black stretch limo, which seemed extravagant given that there were only 6 of them, but this was Veronica Lodge after all. She was Northside royalty practically, she couldn’t be expected to arrive on the Southside in anything less than a sleek black chariot. 

 

In her act of rebellion, she’d thought a lot about the black motorcycle that had been parked in the driveway at the Andrews’ last week, the one she knew now was his. She wondered what it would sound like coming down her quiet street, the roar of the engine calling out to her. She thought about wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, the feeling of their bodies pressed so closely together as they raced through the streets of town. Tonight, however, would not be that night, but she still reached for his hand as they slid into the black car together. 

 

Inside the limo, his eyes danced with a childlike abandon, making her think this was his first time in one. With Veronica Lodge as your best friend, she had grown accustom to arriving in style, but these boys from the Southside were more used to things on two wheels. The small group settled in, laughter radiating when Archie popped a bottle of champagne and bubbles poured out all over the floor. 

 

The drive to Southside High passed quickly, the clinking of glasses and laughter felt like freedom to her, but when the driver stopped outside the high school, she felt an all too familiar panic come over her. Besides the people she came with, she knew no one else, and she barely knew half of the group she was with. She’d heard rumors over the years, about how rough the Southside was, how it was split between two rival gangs, how they did not take kindly to new people, especially those from the Northside of town. Instinctively, her fingers curled into her palms, her freshly manicured nails threatening to push through the delicate skin and smear blood all over her white floral skirt. His hand grazed her, lightly, his fingers pushing aside her own to wrap and intertwine with his. She felt his palm, sweaty and clammy, press flush against her, against those angry scars, and a feeling a relief, of peace, rushed over her. 

 

That feeling of relief didn’t last long, as the group was forced to pull off their shoes and their jewelry, discarded in a small tray as they walked through large metal detectors, reminding her she wasn’t on the Northside anymore. The school itself didn’t look much different, the lockers were red and black instead of blue and gold, but the walls were littered with typical flyers promoting upcoming events. The gym looked the same as any other high school gym, the bleachers pushed back flush against the walls to make room for a dance floor, which was full of gyrating teenagers. There were small clusters sitting down at the tables placed throughout the room, or standing along the wall, all seemed to be absorbed in their own world, in their own conversations. 

 

It only lasted a moment though. Almost as if on cue, the room fell silent, the music still blared in the background, but there was no laughter, no conversations. Eyes turned, and seats squeaked along the gym floor, as everyone took notice of the new arrivals. Her heart was clamoring in her chest, and she tightened her grip on the hand she was holding, as if he could save her from this night. 

 

Through the crowd of onlookers, came two tall boys, wearing all black and the same black leather jacket as the one he had left at home. She felt a chill come over her, the way they chided him and pushed into his side. He introduced her around to them, a series of nicknames she was sure would take her a few times to remember, because she wasn’t fully paying attention to them. Standing off to the side, was a small girl with long pink hair, a short black skater dress and black high-top converse. She wasn’t sure why this girl had caught her eye, until she stepped up to the crowd of black leather and they both seemed to part for her. His hand clenched tighter into hers, and she felt him tug her into his side. 

 

“Jones, I thought it was just a joke that you were bringing a Northside princess…” Her voice was harsh and threatening, something in the way the crowd had parted for her made her fear her. 

 

“Toni- Betty Cooper. Betty- Toni Topaz.” That small moment of fear and panic she had been having, seemed to evaporate in the way he said her name, she remembered who she was raised to be. Again, as if it was the most normal social construct for a teenager, she reached her hand out towards the pink haired girl, who in turn only met her eyes with a glare. 

 

“Whatever.” Her brown eyes darted over her, taking in her white dress, and how it contrasted with her black. “Don’t forget to save me a dance, Jones.”

 

“I don’t think he’ll have any free ones.” Even as she said it, her breath caught in her throat. She considered herself nonconfrontational, always falling in line with what was best and avoiding things that could cause her bodily harm, but the statement kind of fell out of her mouth.

 

“Excuse me, princess? Don’t forget where you are.” She had turned to walk away, but she spun back so fast her pink hair flowed out in the wind behind her. 

 

“Oh, I’m well aware of where I am, and WHO I’m with.” She punctuated the words with a sharp glare at the girl that stood before her, with a shocked look on her face. Veronica had moved to stand closer to her, and mirrored the same shocked face. This was not the perfect little blonde Betty Cooper from Riverdale who followed along with the rules. 

 

The grasp he was holding on her hand tightened again, and he pulled her into his chest, a look of laughter on his face. The small group of boys wearing black leather shoved into his side, and she was sure she’d heard one of them tell him he had his hands full with this one, but she didn’t look up, only burying her head in his chest, breathing in his scent. She had smelled it only briefly last weekend in the kitchen, and again at the Pembrooke when he first pulled her close to him. Something so familiar, like cigarettes and soap, a soft hint of leather even when he wasn’t wearing any. 

 

“So, these dances…” 

 

The small group spent most of the evening on the dance floor. There wasn’t much room for conversation on the dance floor, and to be honest, there wasn’t much room between them at all. True to her word, she kept him close to her for every dance, swaying her hips and running her hands across his chest and up his arms. All too soon, the DJ announced the last dance and a song by the Chainsmokers came on, she felt his hand slip low on her back, that small space that wasn’t covered by her skirt or her top. The feeling of his hand on her bare skin sent shivers down her spine, and she wrapped herself closer into him. 

 

These feelings were beginning to scare her, how easily she found herself wanting to be closer to him, wanting to know him more, how protective she had gotten when Toni came over. It all seemed so uncharacteristic, she was always so reserved and put together, but something in him was making her unravel. Maybe it was the way his eyes sparkled when they caught hers, maybe it was the sharp, sarcastic comments he made with his friends, maybe it was the way her heart stopped when he traced circles on the back of hand. Or maybe it was a combination of everything. That this was new, unknown and forbidden, something so unlike her, and she felt like something was awaking inside of her.

 

The bright white lights of the gym clicked back on, blinding her almost. She sighed against his chest, wanting nothing more than to stay here in this moment. Veronica’s heels clicked over towards her, and she turned to meet her, her head never leaving his chest. 

 

“After party at the Pembrooke?” The raven-haired girl’s eyes danced with mischief and freedom. “My parents are gone for the weekend…”

 

-

 

Bright yellow sunshine beamed in through the large floor to ceiling windows, and he struggled slowly as he opened his eyes to remember where he was. The smell of vanilla and peonies was almost over powering, but it awoke his whole body. There was a blanket wrapped carelessly around them and her body was pulled tight against his, her legs wrapped between his. He ran his fingers through her blonde hair, soft and golden in the morning light, memories of the night before coming back to him. 

 

_She had seemed so carefree, the way she danced around the apartment in an oversized t-shirt and soft cotton cheerleading shorts that he was sure would be the death of him. Veronica had insisted on karaoke, and she’d sang several old school Britney Spears songs in a row. She’d given up refilling her champagne glass, instead she had taken to just carrying the bottle around with her, sometimes tipping it back and letting him have a taste. He was still learning so much about her, but the way she so freely let loose, gave him the impression she didn’t get the chance to do this often, and he vowed to do everything in his power to always make her feel this way._

_The sun had already started to come up, soft yellow creeping in through the large windows, when she’d finally declared that she was tired, and had curled into a ball on the couch. He had curled into the other end, and he wasn’t sure at what point their bodies had found one another, his arms wrapping around her waist._

 

A soft moan escaped her lips, as she stirred slightly, her body still pressed against his. 

 

“Juggie…” He almost didn’t hear her voice, still going over the last nights adventures in his head but the new nickname that had spilled from her lips pulled him out of his trance. 

 

“Morning, Bets.” She pushed her shoulder into his chest, slowly rolling herself over so she could face him. She nuzzled her head into him, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece, he was sure she could hear his heart beat quicken. 

 

“My head hurts.”

 

“Well, you drank an entire bottle of champagne by yourself, I’m not surprised.”

 

“Jug.” 

 

“Bets…”

 

“I think I really like you…” She had pulled her head back, her emerald green eyes staring straight into his, and he moved a hand up from her waist, to gently cradle her chin.

 

“I think I really like you, too.” He lifted her chin, pulling her only slightly closer to him, leaning down to meet her lips. She sighed into him, as he nibbled her bottom lip, before his tongue slipped out to soothe over it, begging entrance into her mouth. She tasted like vanilla lip gloss, morning breath, and the smallest hint of alcohol, but her lips danced with his. He gripped her waist tighter, her hand moving through his hair as they continued their new embrace. 

 

After several minutes, she pulled back, tugging his lip between her teeth, sighing again as she rested her head on his chest. “Jug, my head really hurts.”

 

He tried to stifle a laugh, but the soft angel in his arms looked so sweet and innocent despite her raging hangover headache. “Just go back to sleep, Bets, you’ll feel better soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, you guys! Thank you for all of the love- comments and kudos! I'm feeling so overwhelmed by the response to this! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @theonlyemmaleigh - I have no idea what I'm doing, so its fun! Also- looking for a beta, let me know if you're interested!


	3. Differences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was used to him being playful and sarcastic around her, shoving into her side or flirting with her other best friend. She wasn’t used to his face looking cold and stern, the hint of worry behind his eyes.

It had only been a month since the dance at Southside High, but they had fallen into a little routine together. Every day after school, she had exactly 2 hours before her parents would be home and she’d have to be back at the high school for River Vixen practice. Some days he picked her up from school, some days she drove as fast as she could to his house. They spent their afternoons playing _Grand Theft Auto_ or _Call of Duty_ , sometimes watching an old black and white or a Tarantino movie, sometimes just making out on his bed. 

 

There was something new and exciting in their relationship, though it hadn’t been defined as that, she couldn’t think of another word for what they were doing. He kept her sane, in the midst of everything- the push to be perfect from her parents, end of semester finals, looming college applications. When she was with him, the world seemed clearer, like everything else wasn’t a concern. 

 

It had taken about two weeks before she worked up enough courage to ask him about the black jacket that he sometimes wore. 

 

His dad, he explained, was the leader of the Serpents, and he had been inducted solely because of his blood, not by choice. It wasn’t what his dad had wanted for him, so he mostly stayed out of the club’s dealings. The only requirement his dad really had, was that he wear the jacket when he rode his motorcycle, which, with the coming winter months, wouldn’t be much at all. He was more or less, only hanging on to the jacket until he graduated high school and moved away for college. It wasn’t a lifestyle choice like it had been for his father, more like a birth right. Some of his friends, like Sweet Pea and Fangs who she remembered from the dance, were what he called “lifers”, there would never be anything better for them than the club. 

 

On Friday’s, their time together was cut short because she had to be back at the school earlier to get ready for that night’s football games. Friday’s though, she realized were quickly becoming his favorite day of the week. After she had made grilled cheese or a frozen pizza, she would slip away into his bedroom, always locking the door, and changing discreetly into her cheerleading uniform. They hadn’t slept together yet, only naps and the one overnight visit, she didn’t feel ready yet to explore the sexual side of their relationship, she was still a virgin. But slipping into her uniform, something so pristine and innocent in his bedroom, felt sinful. But not nearly as sinful as the look he would give her when she finally emerged, flattening out the blue and gold pleats, the large R emblazoned across her chest, a bright blue bow tied back tight in her ponytail. 

 

It was their own little game, he would pick her up and spin her around, peppering her jawline with kisses as he placed her back on the ground. Sometimes his hand would slide up her thigh, pushing on the edge of her skirt while he nibbled on her collarbone, sometimes he would flip her ponytail as she twirled around showing off her uniform, like he hadn’t already seen it before. Like he didn’t see it every night in his dreams. 

 

This Friday was different though, because after the game, he’d invited her to come with him to a party on the Southside. She’d packed with her a change of clothes- a black mini skirt and a pink off the shoulder crop top that her and Veronica had decided was both sexy and playful. She felt nervous, all through the game, as his eyes stayed glued on hers. He’d been to her games before, but this felt different, like something was shifting between them tonight. 

 

In the locker room after the game, Veronica helped her fix her hair, reapplying her makeup, adding a subtle smoky eye and a darker shade of pink lipstick. She wished her friend was coming with her, but Veronica had gotten caught sneaking in after staying at Archie’s the weekend before, and outside of school related functions, she was grounded. Kevin was out of town visiting his mom, so tonight, she was braving the Southside on her own.

 

“You look beautiful, Bets. You’ll be fine.” She walked out of the locker room, arm and arm with the raven-haired girl, smiling brightly when she saw him leaning against his blue truck in the parking lot, wearing an outfit she was all too familiar with- dark jeans, dark t-shirt and a flannel, a cigarette dangling from his lips. She kissed Veronica on the cheek, whispering her a word of thanks, as she tossed her bag into the passenger seat. 

 

“Oh- your mom thinks you’re staying with me tonight. You kids have fun.” The words of her best friend caught her off guard as she slid into the seat next to him. The entire night laid out before her, and for the first time in almost a month, she felt herself becoming nervous around him. He reached over, grabbing for her hand, before leaning across the center console to kiss her. Soft and sweet at first, but quickly becoming more passionate, deeper than it had been before. Her stomach fluttered with butterflies- tonight was the night.

 

-

 

His hands were sweaty as he pulled the truck into the small driveway. Fangs house was on the far side of Riverdale, almost to the next town over. His parents were away a lot, and the isolated neighborhood made for some good parties. He was nervous bringing her with him, after how things had gone down at the dance, he hadn’t brought her around the Southside much. But other than Archie and Joaquin, Fangs was one of his closest friends, and he couldn’t miss his birthday. 

 

Without even opening the truck door, he could hear the loud noise from the party. A small group was lounging on a set of couches on the front porch, a distinct skunk-like odor radiating from their area. His grip was firm on her hand, and he tugged her arm gently, pulling her towards him and meeting her lips with his. When she sighed into his kiss, he wanted nothing more than to turn the truck around, and drive her back to his trailer. She pulled away though, flashing him that trademark half smile, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to take her inside and show her off. He stepped out of the truck, grabbing his black leather jacket from the backseat where he’d stashed it, and slipping it over his shoulders before he opened the door, reaching for her hand and pulling her down to him. 

 

He kept his grip on her hand tight, as they walked up the steps to the front porch, nodding slightly at the group passing the small piece of wrapped paper between them, before pushing open the door. Her fingers curled into his, and he thought for almost a moment that he could hear her heart beat increase. Pulling her closer into his side, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. 

 

“Ohh, such a sweet little moment…” Glancing up, he was greeted by three black leather jackets.

 

“Guys. You know Betty…”

 

“Yes, Miss Cooper. Come. I’m in need of a beer pong partner since Kevin bailed on me tonight.” Her hand was pulled away, a fleeting glance back at him as she was dragged away, off into the midst of drunken teenaged party goes by Joaquin. 

 

-

 

She didn’t consider herself much of a drinker, and after the first game, she was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Surprisingly, she had excellent hand-eye-coordination, and her and Joaquin had managed to pull off a win. He’d stepped away shortly, before the next game started, to grab them refills on their beers. She hadn’t seen Jughead since they came in, and as she leaned against the edge of a couch, twirling her red plastic cup around in her hand, her eyes scanned the room for him. Finding nothing, not the crown beanie or the double headed Serpent, she started to feel that familiar sense of panic come over her. She rocked back slightly on her heels, flattening her palms out on her skirt to try to keep from curling her fingers into them. 

 

“Ahh, if it isn’t Little Miss Northside.” The voice did nothing to aid the growing sense panic, but she turned nonetheless, meeting the face of the tiny pink haired girl. There was something vaguely familiar about her outfit, black pants and black combat boots, a black long-sleeved t-shirt with a dark blue flannel tied around her waist. 

 

“Toni.”

 

“You look a little lost, princess. Did the Serpent prince finally get tired of your chastity belt? I knew he wouldn’t last long with you.” 

 

Setting her plastic cup down on the table beside her, she turned to move, to step around the girl, but her way was blocked by a tall girl with short blonde hair. Her heart was racing, the feeling of panic fully taking over her now. 

 

“Please, just let me through.” Her voice was as shaky as her palms, her body trembling and threatening to crumble together. 

 

“Oh no, not yet, princess. You need to know exactly who you’re dealing with.” She wiped her hands down her skirt once again, eyes glancing around the room, trying to find any familiar face. Jughead. Joaquin. Sweet Pea. Fangs. None of them were around, and she felt terrified. What was she thinking, coming here, she felt like she’d walked by herself right into the snake pit. 

 

She noticed a small crowd had gathered around, but these girls wearing black leather jackets did not look as accepting of her as the boys who wore the black jackets were. Stepping closer to the tall blonde, she wanted nothing more than to ram the girl and run past her, but the pink haired girl behind her spoke up again. 

 

“He’s done this before, you know. We have a fight, he retaliates by finding some Northside girl to get back at me with. It’s what we do.” Her panic turned to anger as she spun her body around, glaring down at the girls brown eyes. 

 

“No, Toni. It’s what you did. Not anymore.” There was just a short moment, when she noticed the spark of laughter spread across the girl’s face, but while she was focused on that short-lived smirk, she felt herself yanked from behind, her blonde ponytail falling out as the hair tie snapped. Before she could whip her head around to face the other blonde girl, her head spun towards the right, the result of a swift right hook from the pink haired girl connecting with her face. 

 

Everything happened so fast, she sat there stunned, barely taking notice as Sweet Pea pulled aside the blonde-haired girl, and Fangs wrapped his arm around Toni, pulling her away. She felt an arm come down over her shoulder, the small crowd that had gathered parting for her. She leaned her head into his chest, but the smell that greeted her was not familiar, and her eyes shot up, her brain barely registering Joaquin’s face. 

 

“We need to go, Betty. Now.” This was a side of Joaquin she hadn’t seen before, and even the tone of his voice was terrifying to her. She was used to him being playful and sarcastic around her, shoving into her side or flirting with her other best friend. She wasn’t used to his face looking cold and stern, the hint of worry behind his eyes. She didn’t fight him as he half dragged her outside, instead she found herself burying her head further into his arm, wanting anything than to not see the faces of everyone staring at her, the tears that were starting to form in her eyes. 

 

Outside, the fall air felt cold on her face, and she couldn’t fight back the panic and tears, finally giving in to the pain. 

 

“Joaquin.” He was pulling her away from the blue truck that sat in the driveway, towards where his black motorcycle sat. “Where’s Jug? I need to see Jughead.”

 

“Betty, get on the bike. He’s taking care of something but right now, we need to get you out of here.” He tossed a spare helmet in her direction, taking her hand and pulling her around behind him onto his motorcycle. She wrapped her arms around his chest, leaning her head into his back, more tears falling from her face, as the first time she rode on the back of a motorcycle was not behind Jughead, but instead behind another black leather jacket. 

 

He pulled the bike slowly out of the driveway, turning it in the direction of the trailer that Jughead lived in with his dad. Reaching her hand up, she patted his shoulder gently, and he turned his face back slightly to meet hers.

 

“No. Take me home, please. My house.”

 

There was nowhere else that she wanted to be right now, except buried in the soft pink blankets of her own bed. The wind wiped around her, her legs were starting to go numb from the cold, but she welcomed the numbness, because it meant she was still feeling something. Her tears were blurring her vision, her makeup running down her face, stinging the growing bruise that she knew was appearing underneath her left eye. The drive seemed shorter than she had expected, and when he stopped his motorcycle in front of her house on Elm Street, she sat there, still clutching onto his jacket, for just a moment, tears streaming down her face, when the front door to the white house flung open. 

 

“Elizabeth Cooper. Inside- NOW.” Her mother’s voice radiated into the night, cutting into the coldness that had taken over her, and pulling her back to reality. In her moment of panic, she had completely disregarded the fact that her parents were home, and she was supposed to be sleeping over at Veronica’s. But here she was, turning up at home at 1 in the morning, in a too short skirt and barely there top, on the back of a motorcycle. She stepped away from the bike, handing Joaquin the spare helmet and whispering him a soft word of thanks, before turning to face the woman who stood in the doorway, illuminated by the porch light, feeling her fingers curl into her palms, the nails breaking through the surface.

 

She wasn’t sure how long she sat in the living room, how long the barrage of comments and insults had gone on for. Her tears continued to stream down her face, her body racked with sobs, until she was finally dismissed by her parents, allowed to retreat upstairs to the dungeon that would become her home for how long she wasn’t sure. 

 

She curled up into a ball on top of her sheets, still cold from the motorcycle ride and her small amount of clothes, but too tired, too exhausted, to reach for something warmer to wear, or to cover herself with the blankets. The events of the night played over and over again in her head. His eyes watching her at her football game, the way he looked leaning back against his truck waiting for her, winning the first game of beer pong with Joaquin, the harsh words of Toni and the blonde girl, the hard feeling of a fist hitting her face. She wanted nothing more than for sleep to overcome her, to wake up and realize tonight had been a nightmare and only that. Sinking back further into her bed, surrounded by her pillows, her eyes grew heavier, the elusive sleep ever so close to taking over her, when a loud knock at her bedroom window pulled her instantly from her bed. 

 

Pushing open the window, the tears started to fall from her face again, as she stepped back, allowing him room to climb through her window. Her bedroom was instantly overpowered by the smell of cigarettes and soap, that familiar smell of leather that she had grown so accustomed to. His face looked worn and tired, bags under his eyes that she’d never noticed before. He moved swiftly across the room, a hand reaching up to stroke across her cheek that was peppered blue and purple already. She wanted to pull back away from him, but his scent drew her in, and she sank into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. 

 

They stood there like that, him holding her as she cried in her overly pink bedroom, for what seemed like hours before she finally pulled away. Leaning back, her blood shot green eyes met his, greyer than the usual blue that she normally saw. 

 

“Juggie. Where’d you go?” She moved away from him, settling down unto her plush pink bed, her voice soft and raspy from crying. 

 

“I’m so sorry. Once we got there, I found out some lower level Serpents had been dealing Jingle Jangle, and I needed to deal with them. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have stepped away, I shouldn’t have left you alone…” He dared her to meet his eyes as he sank down next to her, and she took notice of his hands, his knuckles red and swollen. Toni wasn’t the only one that’d been throwing punches tonight. 

 

“Jug, I can’t.” 

 

“No, Betty. No. I’m so sorry, I should have been there with you, been there to protect you. I didn’t think Toni and Sabrina would be brave enough to do anything. Betty, please.” His voice was shaking, cracking as tears welled in his eyes as well. 

 

“I can’t be the girl for you. I can’t compete with these Southside girls. I can’t be like them.” 

 

“Betty, please. I don’t want a Southside girl, I don’t want another girl. I want you. Only you.” He reached out, stroking her face again, both hands grasping at her cheeks. He pulled her closer into him, her head landing on his chest in that place that it fit so perfectly, her body trembling as another round of tears overtook her. 

 

Sometime in the night, they moved further up the bed and buried into the sheets. He had held her until she finally fell asleep. Encased in his strong arms, in his comforting smell, there was a fleeting moment that she thought maybe they could fight this. Maybe they could be bigger than the divide between the North and South side. Maybe she could finally stand up to her parents, feeling brave with him by her side. 

 

When the early morning sun broke through her curtains, she stirred slowly in her bed, her head throbbing from the beer and the tears she had cried. She felt weak and exhausted, but most of all, she felt cold. She rolled to her side, reaching for him, only to find her bed empty. She sat up, slowly. The window was still half open, her curtains blowing in the breeze. He was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me too much, these two have a long road ahead of them
> 
> You can follow find me on tumblr @theonlyemmaleigh


	4. Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But she had never left him, he saw her everywhere.

She threw her bag onto her bed, taking note of the way the pink, red and black paisley pattern blended with the background of her pink bedspread. The same pink bedspread that had adorned her childhood bedroom since she was 12. Feeling inspired, or maybe it was nostalgic, she snapped a quick picture, posting it to her Instagram account.

 

**There’s no place like home.**

 

More like, there was no place she wouldn’t rather be, except home. She liked to think she had finally escaped her mother’s grasp while in California, and for the last 2 consecutive spring and summer breaks, she had successfully managed to do just that. In a truly uncharacteristic Betty Cooper fashion, she’d missed the deadline to apply for a school sponsored work trip by an entire week, leaving her no excuse to avoid an entire week back in the town she had grown up in. 

 

The flight had been long, 6 hours of being crammed in between two strangers, one of whom she was sure hadn’t showered in a week, and she’d only briefly dozed off on the drive up from New York. Her father had tried to keep her awake, asking her questions about school and LA, her friends, her breakup with her boyfriend just after Christmas. At some point, she must have fallen asleep, she was startled awake only when the car stopped in the driveway of the white two-story house on Elm Street.

 

Her mother had greeted her at the front door, asking the same barrage of questions that her father had- school, work, friends, her semi-recent breakup. After over an hour, she’d finally reminded her mother that she’d just gotten off a 6-hour flight and she desperately needed a moment of quiet, leaving her mid-sentence to make her way upstairs to the bedroom on the right that she was so familiar with. 

 

Everything looked untouched. Given, she was home only a few months earlier for Christmas, but it still always felt like stepping back into a time capsule every time she came home. Pictures of her, Veronica and Kevin, a closet full of pink and blue pastel cardigans, vanilla scented candles and the same peony body lotion. It felt like high school all over again and for the smallest fleeting moment, she caught herself glancing over to the window, and remembering the time he’d crawled through it. The last time she’d actually talked to him, well over 4 years ago now. The freedom that’d she’d felt in her moments of short lived rebellion with him seemed like memories of someone else, so long ago forgotten. 

 

The night he climbed in her bedroom window, the night he’d held her until she finally fell asleep, only to disappear before she woke in the morning, wasn’t the last time she’d seen him. Over the next two years, they’d been a few encounters, mostly because Veronica and Kevin had remained friends with Joaquin and Archie, despite a lack of further romantic advancement. The times she saw him were always unexpected, and she’d watched him from afar, the way he’d noticed her but didn’t make a move in her direction, and she didn’t make a step towards him. 

 

The days and months that had followed that morning waking up alone in her bedroom were moments she wanted to never remember again, but the pinkness of her bedroom seemed to taunt her, making her remember them all too clearly. Her mother, perched straightly on the edge of the bed, reminding her that nothing good could come from a Southside boy. Veronica, in her attempt to help her heal, spent numerous hours arranging sleepovers, mani-pedis and mini makeovers. Kevin, who insisted the best way to heal a broken heart was a shopping spree. But every night, after she’d spent the entire day putting on the façade that she was the perfect Betty Cooper, she broke, alone in her pink bedroom, her fingers curled tightly into her palms. 

 

Each day seemed to get easier and the scars on her palms had eventually healed, but she still longed for that sense of freedom and rebellion she had felt with him, and maybe that had played a bigger part in her decision to attend college on the West coast than anything else. Away from her parent’s strong grasp, she was able to be someone else, a small fraction of the girl she had been with him, a happiness she thought she wouldn’t find again. 

 

She sighed, sinking back into the plush pink comforter, feeling her body be encased with the too many pillows that adorned her childhood bed. The exhaustion from the trip and the emotions that came with coming home, finally overtook her.

 

-

 

He slid the cup of coffee across the counter, turned and placed his apron in the dirty laundry bin. Walking back to his apartment after his shift at the coffee shop ended, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, an unfamiliar tone. Pulling it out, he saw a notification from his Instagram account, barely used and long forgotten. **B_coop just posted a picture.**

 

It’d been so long since they started following each other, that he’d actually forgotten all about it. Her account was filled with mostly pictures of the beach, some palm trees or coffee mugs, her face rarely making an appearance, but it was still so engrained in his memory. It’d been about 2 years since he’d last seen her, shortly before she moved to California for school. Some last summer party at Archie’s, she’d shown up with Veronica and Kevin. He’d spent most of the evening watching her from afar, watching her laugh with her friends, seeing her smile and her eyes dance, she seemed to so happy, like the girl he’d once known. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything to her, she didn’t need him to drag her back down again, but she had such a magnetic pull over him, that all night long, he’d known exactly right where she was. Except for the time he’d lost her, momentarily, and found her again standing directly opposite of him while he refilled his beer, waiting to refill her cup as well. He didn’t say anything, only reached for her cup, his hand so briefly grazing hers and feeling that electric shock all over again, before he filled it with as little foam as possible and handed it back to her. Her eyes had shot up to meet his, and he felt like there was something she was about to say, before she took her cup, and turned and walked away. The look she had given him, had left his mind reeling with questions, but when he found her again, laughing over a game of beer pong with Kevin, he decided it was better to leave things be. 

 

After high school, he’d moved to New York for school, settling into life at NYU had seemed so drastic compared to his life on the Southside. His motorcycle had made the trip with him, but his black leather jacket had been left behind at his father’s house, and he only ever wore it when he was back at home. 

 

As he pushed open the door to his apartment, his thoughts weren’t on the blonde ponytail that so often plagued his dreams, but the leftover Chinese from the night before. He tossed his bag onto the side table, dropping his khaki jacket over the back of a chair before grabbing the containers from the fridge and settling into the couch. He pulled out his phone, clicking on the notification, and scrolling through the app. The plush pink bedspread brought back a flood of memories, reminders of the last night he’d talked to her, holding her until she finally fell asleep before slipping out her window before she woke up. She had been right, she would never be a Southside girl, and he’d realized that night, as he held her as her body trembled with sobs, that these Southside girls would tear her apart and destroy her, that ray of light in his life that she was would eventually be extinguished by their darkness and harsh words, that he could never protect her from them. The only way he could save her, was to leave her. 

 

But she had never left him, he saw her everywhere. It might be a pink sweater sitting in front of him in lecture, or the swish of a blonde ponytail on the sidewalk. He’d tried hard to date other girls, only those of the brown haired/brown eyed type, but she was always there, haunting him in the back of his mind. The girl that had once been his, the girl that should have always been his. 

 

There was a fleeting moment, where he thought maybe things were different now, and he felt a fog come over him, as he looked at what he’d just done, no way to erase it. 

 

**Welcome home, B.**

 

-

 

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep; the darkness had crept into her bedroom and her body ached. Stretching, she reached for her phone that sat on her bedside table. Living 2 time zones away from her parents, she’d long ago created the habit of sleeping with her phone on silent to avoid the sound of notifications and phone calls waking her up at all hours, and as she opened her phone, she was met with a string of messages- missed calls, texts and Instagram notifications. _What in the world had happened while she slept._

 

She checked her missed calls first, 2 from Veronica, and 1 from her roommate Cheryl. Opening her text messages, she saw a slew of them from both of the girls, and figured whatever they’d called about had been revealed in the messages. She opened Veronica’s first, but they only left her confused and panicked. 

 

**V-** Girl. Answer your phone.  
**V-** Seriously B. PICK UP  
**V-** Elizabeth Cooper, you need to call me, NOW.  
**V-** Betty. Please. 

 

Pulling open Cheryl’s messages didn’t answer any questions either. 

 

**Cheryl-** Wow, Betts- he’s cute!  
**Cheryl-** Ok, so I stalked him. Turns out he’s into boys. Sorry.  
**Cheryl-** Ok, but who is this one?  
**Cheryl-** Elizabeth Cooper, he has a dog and a motorcycle. You need to jump on that. Please.  
**Cheryl-** Seriously. Living vicariously through you. GET THAT, GIRL.

 

She rolled her eyes at that last comment, still unsure of what was going on. She pulled open her Instagram account, and finally understood everything. The missed calls, the confusing text messages, everything made sense now. 

 

The picture of her paisley bag on her bedspread had become a very popular picture while she was sleeping. 

 

**@princess_lodge-** Missing you, B!

**@cheryl_bombshell-** so pink! Reminds me of my room at home!

**@not_joaquin_phoenix-** hmu, I miss that blonde ponytail in my life!

**@j_jones_III-** Welcome home, B. 

 

Her stomach fluttered as she read over the comments again. It’d been so long ago, she barely remembered following him, or that he was still following her. She clicked on his profile, and was met with a slew of artfully posed pictures- a New York City street, a shaggy sheepdog, the motorcycle she had once longed to ride on the back of, but only one that showed his face. He still wore the same grey beanie, that lone curl falling lose, a dark red and blue flannel over a grey shirt. So much looked the same. Most of his face was covered by the coffee mug, but his eyes. Those grey eyes though, seemed to pierce through the camera lens, through her phone and directly into her soul. He’d starred in many of her dreams over the years, but she’d somehow forgotten how ruggedly handsome he was, but this picture, those eyes, brought back every emotion she’d tried to push away over the last 4 years. 

 

She was only home for a week, and it’d be a long week without Veronica and Kevin to keep her company, so she clicked the reply. 

 

**@j_jones_III-** Thanks, J. If you’re home, grab Pop’s with **@not_joaquin_phoenix** tomorrow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Thank you for all of the love/comments and kudos! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @theonlyemmaleigh! I've been playing around with some moodboards for this fic that I'm super excited about! Also- still looking for a beta if you're interested!


	5. Burgers and Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something like hope and freedom and happiness all in one, that maybe they could rewrite the ending to their story, that maybe it wasn’t over yet.

The ringing of his phone jarred him awake. He couldn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, the containers of Chinese still balanced precariously on his lap. Reaching into his pocket for his phone, he was surprised to see the number coming through. 

 

“Hey, Joaquin. Everything ok?” He hesitated for just a second, usually a call from Joaquin only brought bad news, some deal gone bad with the Serpents, calling to see if he could run interference for them.

 

“Man, for once things are good. Just get home. Now.”

 

“I’ve got shifts scheduled at work all weekend, everyone else has cleared out for break. Just tell me what’s going on, and I’ll see if I can handle it with a phone call.”

 

“No man, this isn’t a phone call fix. Fake some kind of family emergency and get back here.” His tone was urgent, but he sensed a tinge of excitement in his voice.   
“Joaquin, just tell me what’s going on.” 

 

“Jug- do you not ever check your Instagram? She replied back to you. She wants to get together, tomorrow.”

 

“What are you talking about? Who wants to get together?” His head was still feeling foggy from his unexpected nap, and Joaquin was talking so fast, his brain was having a hard time catching up with him.

 

“Betty. She wants to see you tomorrow…”

 

“I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

 

It wasn’t even 10 minutes after the phone call with Joaquin had woken him up, and he’d strapped the small bag he’d thrown together onto his motorcycle, called work and informed him of his family emergency, and was headed north, back to the place he had came from. 

 

-

 

Several pictures and group texts later, Cheryl and Veronica had helped her pick out what they were deeming the perfect “I might still want you but I’m not going to admit it so we’re meeting for lunch with a mutual friend” outfit. She wished more than anything that one of them, or even Kevin, was here with her, to act as a buffer between what she was sure would be an incredibly awkward situation, but at least she’d have Joaquin. 

 

She was nervous as she slipped out the front door, borrowing her parent’s car for an approved lunch meeting with a friend from high school. For once, her parents hadn’t asked a million and a half questions, instead simply trusting her and tossing over the keys. 

 

Everything about Riverdale seemed the same, the streets, the cars, the people. Nothing ever changed here, and as heartbreaking as that was, it was also mildly comforting. LA was loud and dirty, home felt clean and fresh. The car seemed to drive itself through the familiar streets, leading her to a diner that sat halfway between the Northside and Southside of town. They’d met here a few times in high school, late night dinner’s after Friday night football games, but since the demise, she’d barely stepped foot in here, doing everything she could to avoid places she associated with him. 

 

Shutting the car door, she felt her nervousness overtaking her, her fingers curling into her palms. She tugged on the hem of her sweater, a soft pale blue that she’d paired with a pair of white shorts and her leopard print flats. Instinctively, she reached up to tighten her ponytail, before remembering that Veronica and Cheryl had insisted on her wearing her hair down, and it currently curled and flowed down her back. A quick glance around the parking lot, she noticed the two black motorcycles parked next to each other, they were both already here. 

 

It was now or never, and her nervousness changed to a sense of giddiness as she pushed open the door to the diner, a soft bell ringing behind her. In a booth towards the back sat two boys wearing black leather jackets. The one facing her, smiled and held up his hand, his long hair falling in his face. The other one turned around, a lone curl falling out from underneath his grey beanie, and when his grey eyes met hers, she froze. 

 

-

 

He’d forgotten how beautiful she was. Her long legs were accented by a pair of white shorts and a soft tan that only came from days spent in the sun. He felt his breath catch as she walked down the aisle of the diner, closer to their booth. There was a lightness in her walk, the way she swayed and glided. He was sure he was staring, but her eyes never faltered from his. Those green eyes that haunted his dreams, he was sure he wouldn’t ever be able to push them from his mind. 

 

Joaquin stirred in the booth next to him, pulling him out of his trance. His friend stood up to greet her as she approached the booth, walking past him to greet Joaquin first. He switched his weight from each foot, feeling anxious, until she stepped closer into him, almost touching him, looking up and smiling that half smile he hadn’t seen in years. 

 

She leaned into him, his arms coming to wrap around her like an old habit, pulling her even closer to him. Her breath was warm on his chest as her arms roped around his waist, hands coming up to rest of his shoulder blades. He felt like he’d been holding his breath since the door had chimed, and breathing in deeply he was overcome with the smell of vanilla and peonies. _God, she still smelled exactly the same._

 

For how long they stood there like that, he wasn’t sure, but she had finally pulled away, her green eyes glancing up to meet his, whispering the softest “Hi, Jug,” he had ever heard, and his heart melted into a pile on the diner floor. 

 

-

 

She slid into the booth seat next to him, trying to remember to breathe. They sat so close to one another, she could feel his leg shake the booth, his knee bouncing up and down, a nervous tick she’d forgotten about. Something she had never forgotten though, was the faint smell of cigarettes, soap and leather that seemed to radiate from him. She was, in that moment, thankful for Joaquin, because it was taking everything in her not to fall into his side, not to find his lips with hers. 

 

The conversation flowed over milkshakes and burgers, and to the outside world it looked like 3 old friends catching up from college. Stories of roommates and parties, lectures and part time jobs. She was surprised to find that he’d followed his dreams of writing to New York, creative writing major who worked in a coffee shop. They seemed so cliché, her matching him with her English degree and part time job bartending. Joaquin filled them in on life with the Serpents, black leather jackets and nights spent at the Whyte Wyrm, this hole in the wall bar that the Serpents had unofficially declared as their headquarters. 

 

It seemed so normal, the way after he’d ate two burgers and his basket of fries, he’d reached his hand into her basket, something he’d done without thinking years ago. She lightly swatted his hand away, feeling that electric shock as she pushed his elbow with hers. 

 

“Well, my friends. Duty calls. Betts, it was great to see you. Tell Keller to call me next time he’s in town.” Joaquin slid from his place across from her, pulling her out of the booth and out of her Jughead-induced trance to pull her into a hug. She was thankful for the weird friendship that had developed between them- since that night when he’d been her savior on the black motorcycle. 

 

She sank back into the booth beside him, slightly closer than before, and for just a moment, the two sat there in silence, finishing the last of their milkshakes. The waitress had long ago brought their check, but they still sat there, unmoving, until finally, he leaned into her shoulder.

 

"Double feature at the Bijou? It’s a Kill Bill marathon today…”

 

-  
Balancing popcorn in one hand and a soda in the other, he tucked her chewy candies under his arm, and let her lead the way towards the back of the theatre. The Bride had only just killed Vernita when she pushed up the arm rest, curling her body into his so she could better use his arm as a shield. 

 

“Betty.” His voice was barely a whisper, dipping low to speak only to her ear. “Before we do anything we’ll regret, I have to know. There’s not a boy in California is there?”

 

Her eyes shot up, bright green sparkling up to meet his. “No girl left behind in New York?” 

 

“No.”

 

“Good.” She answered his first question with her lips, parting them briefly against his before pulling away, and slinking herself further into his side. 

 

Somewhere around the start of the second movie, he noticed her breathing had slowed, and she was emitting the softest snore. He didn’t want to move, sitting there so comfortable with her curled into his side, his arm draped around her waist. There was so much left unspoken, but holding her, touching her, just being in the same space as her, felt like a shift in the right direction. Maybe the ending they’d had when they were 16 wasn’t it, wasn’t the end. Maybe their story wasn’t finished yet. He ran his fingers through her golden hair, and she stirred, slowly, moving so her eyes could reach his. Soft and sleepily, her voice whispered out to him.

 

“Sorry I fell asleep, Jug.” 

 

“No, Betts. Want to grab a coffee?” 

 

-

 

When he reached for her hand to help her up, her unsteady legs gave out and she fell into his chest. His arms wrapped around her waist to keep her from falling, pulling her closer into him. He leaned down, kissing the top of her head, breathing in her vanilla shampoo. 

 

He laced his fingers through hers, and guided her through the dark theatre and out into the night. She leaned in further to his side, and he stopped, slipping his black jacket off and tossing it over her shoulders, laughing softly at how it enveloped the small girl. She let go of his hand, only briefly, to tug her arms into the sleeves of the jacket, the thought of her wearing only his black jacket danced in his head, and he pulled her closer into him. 

 

They didn’t say much on the short walk to Sweetwater Coffee, a small coffee shop that had just opened on Main St, but she ran her thumb along the back of his hand, her arm rubbed tight against his. One black coffee and one white chocolate mocha later, they had settled next to each other at a booth in the back. 

 

The conversation turned back to life at college, the differences between New York and LA. She told him about the boyfriend that she’d dated for 2 years, breaking up only just after Christmas. Her classes had let out early one day, and she’d headed straight to his dorm, they had made plans for a movie night later, but instead she’d walked in only to find a brunette girl who sat in front of her in psychology with her legs wrapped around his waist, and that had been then end of that. He told her about his string of bad dates- the girl who had 5 cats in her small Brooklyn apartment, the one who invited him home to meet her parents on the first date, and the one who’s apartment was dirtier than the one he shared with Archie. He would have told her stories all night long, just to see the way her eyes danced, her nose crinkling up as she laughed at another date gone wrong, but it was almost 1 in the morning, and the coffee shop was starting to close down. 

 

-

 

Back in the parking lot of Pop’s, she leaned against the side of her truck, caged in with his arms on either side, his tall frame bending down to graze her lips. She was surprised, how easily she had slipped back under his spell, like the hurt and years of not speaking were erased. Her hands fit into his like a mold, perfectly fitting into one another’s grooves. 

 

“Coop…” His voice was breathy and low when he pulled away from her, moving a hand from the truck to graze across her cheek. 

 

“I know, I need to go before my parents send out a search party.” She leaned her head forward, pushing into his chest, breathing in the smell of leather.

 

“Betty, it’s not just that. I could only get today off of work, I have to be back in New York in a few hours.”

 

She felt her heart drop. Dreams of an entire week spent curled into his side, movies on the couch at his trailer, sneaking him into her bedroom window, dinners at Pop’s and walks by the river, were destroyed in a simple sentence. 

 

“So, this is it then? Just today, tonight, and then…” She couldn’t find any more words, but felt her voice start to falter as she leaned her head back against her truck, squeezing her eyes tightly closed. 

 

“Bets,” One hand reached around to stroke through her hair, the other one wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. “It’s not just today, tonight and then done. It’s a year and two months and we’ll both be back here again, for good this time. So, I suggest we make a pact.”

 

“A pact? Like a blood promise?”

 

“Well, I’d rather kiss on it than spit on your hand, but yes. A pact, that if after graduation, we both return to Riverdale without a significant other, we will revisit, this.” His lips found hers again, like they had so many times that night, and she didn’t think she could walk away from this day the same as she’d been before. There was still so much left to discuss, apologies and years that couldn’t be replaced, but something felt different in this moment, in a way she couldn’t quiet describe. Something like hope and freedom and happiness all in one, that maybe they could rewrite the ending to their story, that maybe it wasn’t over yet. A year. Only a year, when they’d already lost 4, would go fast. She leaned up, one last lingering kiss, before she pulled away, opening the door to her truck and sliding into the seat. 

 

“See you in a year, Mr. Jones.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are AMAZING! Thanks for all of the love!
> 
> follow me on tumblr @theonlyemmaleigh


	6. Black Jackets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the small mirror over his dresser, as she tried to fix her hair, a faded picture caught her eye.

She was in a fog, going through the motions. Her alarm went off every morning at 5AM, calling her off to her early morning shift at Sweetwater Coffee. She’d serve warm mugs all through the morning rush hour, before getting back to her parent’s house just after lunch. A three-mile run was followed by a shower, job applications and an evening with Veronica and Kevin- movie night, Pop’s, or drinking at the river. 

 

But weekends. Weekends were her favorite, because she didn’t have to work. And because when her shift ended on Friday, he would be waiting in the parking lot for her. The year had gone by fast, spent over a slew of text messages and phone calls, and some carefully posed pictures. After graduation, she’d moved back to Riverdale and taken the small job at the coffee shop, hoping to land something more permanent before school started in the fall. He had taken a job teaching English during a summer school session, so for the first two months, he split his time between New York and Riverdale. Even though she knew, every Friday, that he would be there waiting, she would still forget to breathe when she’d walk through the doors of the coffee shop, and see him, leaning against his motorcycle- a grey t-shirt, dark jeans, grey beanie and black leather jacket, despite the early summer heat. 

 

She felt that freedom she’d been chasing since she was 16, her arms curled around his waist, clinging to him as they raced on his motorcycle through the town she’d grown up in. Out past the high school, past Pop’s Chocklite Shoppe, to an old access road that lead through the woods and out to the river. A quiet little meadow that overlooked the water, they would spend their afternoons in the water, reading on the bank, or curled into one another on the blanket he kept a bag on his bike. Their relationship still hadn’t crossed that line, but there was something different in the way they were together. Always touching, always holding, there was no barrier.   
These were the afternoons that were her favorite, just the two of them, alone but together. She loved curling into his side in a booth at Pop’s, sitting across from Joaquin and Kevin, or catching a double feature at the Bijou with Archie, but in these moments, when it was only them, it felt the way it should always have been, the way it should always be. 

 

On this particular Friday, her skin felt crisp and red, a full afternoon of swimming in the river had taken its toll on her porcelain skin. The wind whipped around her as he guided his motorcycle away from the river, towards the southside of town, the small trailer he stayed in with his father. They had plans to meet Sweet Pea and Fangs in a few hours at the Whyte Wyrm, drinks to celebrate the end of another work week. She hadn’t been back to the trailer since they were in high school, and it reminded her of their old routine, getting ready before football games on Friday nights. Everything in his room seemed untouched, the same dark navy bedspread, the same books sat on the bookshelf, the same smell of cigarettes and leather. She slipped out of her coverup and her swimsuit, pulling a black sun dress and a matching lace underwear set from her small bag. By the small mirror over his dresser, as she tried to fix her hair, a faded picture caught her eye. She pulled it down, vaguely remembering a long-ago memory, and she hadn’t heard the door open behind her. His arms wrapped around her waist, his head coming down to rest on her shoulder.

 

“It’s still one of my favorite pictures of us.” 

 

“Was it really 5 years ago? It seems like yesterday…” She turned the picture around in her hand, feeling a flush of emotions. It was a candid shot of them, from behind, holding hands and walking across the football field after a game. Her with her blonde hair in a ponytail, blue and gold cheerleading uniform. Him with his grey beanie, black motorcycle boots and black leather jacket, with the double headed Serpent adorned in green on the back. 

 

“We were quite the pair, you and me. This was the same night I met your parents for the first time.” It had been shortly after this picture was taken. Her parents had been watching from the stands, watching as the boy in the black leather jacket swept up their daughter in her cheerleading uniform. Her mother had been less than friendly, she couldn’t remember the exact statement, but it had been some backhanded compliment about being from the wrong side of the tracks. 

 

“We still are quite the pair. And speaking of my parents, they don’t know we’re seeing each other again. I haven’t found the best way to tell them.” She had turned around, staring up into his grey eyes. 

 

“Bets, there’s no good way to tell them. Unless your mother has suddenly developed a new mindset, her opinion of me hasn’t changed. Do I want your parents to like me- yes. But is it going to break me if they don’t- no.”

 

“I know, Jug, but I want them to get to know you. Maybe we can plan a dinner for next weekend when your home.”

 

“Next weekend? Don’t you have a big day coming up next weekend?”

 

“Really, Jug. I thought we agreed long ago not to celebrate birthdays.”

 

“Nope, I agreed not to celebrate mine, I have nothing against celebrating yours. Speaking of celebrations, we need to get going, or we’ll have two large Serpents busting down my door.” She leaned into his chest, breathing in the scent she could never get enough of, chills running down her spine as he ran his hands over her bare arms before leaning down and ghosting his lips over hers. 

 

-

 

By the time he’d driven her back into town to pick up her car, and then driven back out to the Whyte Wyrm, he had 3 missed calls and 7 text messages from Sweet Pea and Fangs. A slew of profanities and empty threats, about how he’d better not be standing them up. He pushed open the door to the bar, a tight grasp on her hand as he tugged her inside. It was loud in a typical bar way, pool tables and music fighting for attention over conversations. His boots stuck to the floor as they walked across the tile, and he guided her over to the bar, moving to stand behind her as she slid onto an empty stool. Two whiskey and sodas were quickly placed in front of them, and she spun around in her seat winding her legs between his. 

 

“Look who decided to finally leave the bedroom and grace us with their presence!” He watched as her eyes sparkled up as his two friends made their way over, and she jumped down, only to be picked up and spun around by the larger of the two. In high school, his friends had quickly become fiercely protective of this little blonde from the northside of town, and he knew she still saw Joaquin regularly, but he wasn’t sure the last time she’d seen Fangs and Sweet Pea. 

 

The group moved over to a booth, and he sank back, his arm draped over her shoulder, listening to her regale the others with stories of college in California- classes, learning to surf, parties. In high school, when he first met her, she’d been this girl who was screaming for freedom, for a release from her parents, and there had been a brief moment in time when he thought that he could be that release for her, but it’d taken moving away, being on her own, for her to finally break that perfectionist persona her parents had held her to. 

 

A slow Chainsmokers song broke over the radio, the same one they’d danced to all those years ago, and he pulled her by the hand out of the booth. Holding her close, he felt like the song was wrote for them, wrote for this moment. Her head was resting on his chest, his fingers running through her hair, and he leant down to kiss the top of her hair. Sometimes it startled him, how easily they’d fallen into a routine together, after all the time they’d spent apart. But there was something more to her, to the way he held her, the electricity that pulsed through his fingers when she grazed his hand. 

 

She switched to water after another whiskey, but in the parking lot, hours later, when he kissed her goodbye against her car, he could still taste the alcohol on her breath. He felt her body shiver against his, and he took his black jacket off, wrapping it around her before she slipped into her car, rolling the window down to pepper his mouth with one last kiss, before she turned her car towards the northside of town. 

 

-

 

The sun was just barely peaking through the curtains of the trailer, and when he stretched, his feet and hands hit the edge of the couch. He didn’t remember falling asleep out here, and his back was already telling him it had been a stupid decision. Groaning, he reached for his phone on the coffee table, but came up empty handed. Sitting up quickly, he moved towards the door to check the pockets of his jacket, remembering he’d slipped his jacket on her before she left. 

 

He drove quickly through town, towards the white house on Elm Street with the tower that her parents tried to keep her locked away in. He had only just parked his motorcycle on the road in front of the house, before the front door was opened, revealing a tall, blonde woman. She looked different than the last time he’d seen her, only a few years older.

 

“Jughead Jones. Care to explain why you’re showing up at our house at 6AM on a Saturday morning?”

 

“Mrs. Cooper, I’m sorry, but I left my phone in my jacket pocket last night, and I left my jacket with Betty.” He had stepped across the lawn, standing on the porch steps in front of the woman, who even in the early morning air, even wrapped in a long cream robe, filled him with fear. He’d dealt with some horrible humans while growing up on the Southside, but no one affected him like Alice Cooper. 

 

“Come in, I’ll make coffee and you can explain to me why you were out with my daughter last night.”  
-  
She woke with a start, her brain barely registering the voice she heard coming from downstairs. A sense of panic started to overtake her, as she scrambled to find something more appropriate than the short pajama shorts and camisole she’d slept in. Pulling on a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt, she bounded down the stairs to his rescue, only to find him settled happily at the kitchen table, halfway through a plate of pancakes, eggs and sausage.

 

“Elizabeth, good morning.” She stood frozen in the doorway to the dining room, taking in the sight before her. Him, sitting there so casually, across the table from her father, while her mother brought another plate of pancakes to the table. She slid into the chair next to him, and when his hand reached out to softly graze his knee, she leaned over to whisper close to his ear.

 

“What are you doing here?” His eyes danced with something that was both fearful and playful, and a half smirk appeared across his face.

 

“I left my phone in my jacket. Your mom invited me in for coffee, and then she just kept cooking.” She squeezed his hand gently, trying to be reassuring, but still unsure about this odd turn of events so early on a Saturday.

 

“So, Betty. Jughead was just telling us about your evening at the Whyte Wyrm. How interesting, we were under the impression you were with Veronica at the Pembrooke.” Her mother had settled into the spot across from her, her eyes daring her to look up and meet her own. She tightened her grip on the hand she was holding, feeling a wave of panic overtake her once again. “I must say, Jughead. I thought after you’d moved to New York, that you’d leave those Serpent ways behind you.”

 

“Mrs. Cooper.”

 

“Mom.” Their voices had come out together, and she leaned into his side slightly, as she started to continue. “We’re different than we were at 16, both of us, and I’d really appreciate it if you would give us a chance with this. Get to know Jughead, without the jacket.”

 

“Well, seeing as how the jacket is the reason why he’s here this morning at all, that might be difficult. But, this, whatever this is, seems to be making you happy, and I think your mother and I can put in an effort.” Her father had hardly looked up from over his morning paper, reading over articles he had written himself, but the way he gestured between them, he must have been paying attention. 

 

“Yes, an effort. Polly and Jason are coming to town with the twins next weekend for your birthday, I thought we could have a family lunch. Jughead, you are welcome to join us if you’d like.” Her mother had extended the olive branch, but she knew her mother too well to know that in most things she did, there was an ulterior motive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, you guys! Thank you so much for all of the love! I'll be traveling for Thanksgiving, so it might be a few days before I can update again.
> 
> Still looking for a beta- you can find me on tumblr @theonlyemmaleigh


	7. Birthdays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something in her eyes, wistful and reminiscent, something she had never seen from her mother.

Maybe the bright yellow sundress wasn’t the best choice of an outfit, because for the third time today she found herself climbing the ladder of the old tree house in her backyard, chasing after her sister’s 7 year old twins. When the 2 redheads called out “Auntie B”, she had a hard time not playing along. The years spent in California had been hard, not getting to watch them grow up, so she was trying to make up for lost time. From high in the tree, she could see the front yard of her house, noticing the familiar old blue pickup stopping out front, and her heart fluttered. She had seen him only the week before, but today felt different, like a fresh start. She watched as he lingered in the truck for a moment, seemingly trying to calm his nerves, before exiting the truck, bouquet of yellow lilies in hand.

 

She bounded quickly down the ladder, catching a glare from her mother as she raced across the yard and into the house. Smoothing her dress, her heart was racing as she opened the front door, just as he was raising his hand to knock.

 

There was always that first moment when she saw him, that her breath caught in her throat and she found herself stumbling for words. Standing on her front porch in a light blue button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tucked into dark wash jeans, his dark brown hair safely secured under his trademark beanie, her heart stopped.

 

“Happy Birthday, Betts.” He handed her the bouquet of lilies before leaning down, grasping her face with both hands, his lips finding hers. It was one of those kisses, full of urgency and longing, that left her gasping for breath when he finally pulled away. She met his eyes with a half smile, his hand running down her arm, grabbing tightly to the hand that wasn’t holding flowers. “I missed you this week… “

 

“I miss you every week. These are beautiful, Juggie. Come inside, I’ll put them in water.” Her hand pulled behind her, pulling him through the house into the kitchen where she reached for a vase.

 

Once the flowers were placed in water, and she’d stolen another kiss from him, they walked outside to the back porch, her hand never leaving his. 

 

The rest of the afternoon had passed calmly enough. Her sister’s husband Jason, had spent a good portion of time grilling Jughead about his time in New York, his dream to publish a novel someday, and his history with his motorcycle. She watched almost in a panic, when her father Hal challenged him to a game of one-on-one basketball, but when he peeled off his button down, revealing only a white tank top, she found herself settling into a chair by the driveway with a glass on sangria. He moved in a way she wasn’t aware he knew how to, never being the athlete in high school, but apparently over the years of being friends with Archie, he’d learned a thing or two. In the end, Hal had beat him, but only just barely, and she suspected by the way his last shot was so far off, that maybe he’d let him win on purpose. 

 

Her mother had asked her to help in the kitchen while Hal was finishing up the burgers on the grill, claiming she couldn’t carry plates and potato salad. She followed her inside, reaching into the top cupboard to pull down some plates, turning around to see her mother leaning back against the kitchen island. 

 

“Elizabeth. I wanted to apologize to you, for being so quick to judge him. I thought for years, he was exactly like his father, and that was a path I didn’t want you to follow down. But watching him, with Jason and the twins, playing basketball with your dad, even just the way he looks at you, its easy to see how much he cares for you. I’m not trying to tell you I approve of him just yet, but if he makes you happy, then I’m willing to give him a chance.”

 

She stood, her hand still holding the plates, staring at her mother, stunned. Years ago, when she’d spent many a night up late crying over Jughead Jones, her mother had done her best to convince her that boys from the Southside weren’t worth her tears. Even the other morning, when he’d shown up at the house to retrieve his phone, Betty had gotten an earful from her after he’d left, the same argument that she was too good for him, that he wasn’t what her parents wanted for her. There was more though, something small her mother had mentioned, that seemed to be the only thing she’d really pulled from her mother’s short statement. 

 

“You said you thought he was like his father? Did you know his dad?” From the look her mother gave her, she was sure she was hoping she’d not heard that part of the conversation, but she sighed, before moving around the island to stand directly across from her. There was something in her eyes, wistful and reminiscent, something she had never seen from her mother. 

 

“I did. In high school. I attended Southside until my Junior year, when my father took a job on the Northside of town, and moved us out of the trailer park. Jughead’s dad, FP and I, had grown up next door to each other, always close friends. As we got older, I thought it might become more than just friends, but he had started to fall in with the Serpents, and he became someone I didn’t know anymore. He started drinking, running drugs for them, it was a life I didn’t want. Moving to the Northside saved me, I met your father, and never looked back.”

 

“He’s not at all like his father, mom. Thanks for giving him a chance, for giving us a chance.” She reached out to grab unto her mother’s hand, squeezing gently before carrying the plates out to the back porch. 

 

Burgers, beer, more sangria and birthday cake later, they said their goodbyes to her family, and loaded into his truck. Her mother had surprised her, telling her she’d see her tomorrow, not asking questions about where they were going, when she’d be back, or where she was staying the night. That feeling of freedom that she felt like she craved when he wasn’t around, washed over her, knowing this freedom came guilt-free. 

 

-

 

He drove the truck through town, his hand tightly grasped in hers, and he hoped she couldn’t feel the sweaty, clamminess of his. The day at her parents had gone well, he’d had fun chasing the twins around the yard, Polly had been very polite, he liked Jason and Hal, and even Alice had smiled at him when they left. It seemed so odd, so different from her demeanor towards him the week before. But now, as he took the road outside of town that lead down to their spot at the river, he was nervous in a way he hadn’t been in a long time.

 

The woods gave way to the small clearing that they had spent many days in, picnics and swimming and napping in the sun. But today, it held a tent and a fire pit, firewood already piled to the side. She turned to him, that half smirk on her face, but her eyes danced when she met his.

 

“Juggie, what is this?”

 

“This, Bets, its your birthday surprise.” 

 

“I’m not dressed for camping at all, Jug. I wish you would have told me, I’d have packed a change of clothes.”

 

“No worries, Veronica packed you a bag already, it’s in the backseat.” He hadn’t peeked inside the bag yet, but if he knew Veronica, there wasn’t much in the bag. 

 

There wasn’t much to set up, he’d stopped by that morning and gotten everything ready, but she must have found something suitable in the bag Veronica had packed, because when she stepped out a few minutes after he’d started the fire, she was wearing a pair of jeans and an old hooded sweatshirt. The sun had started to set, and she curled up in a folding lawn chair he’d thrown around the fire, beer in hand. She looked happy, content and relaxed, which didn’t do much to calm his nerves. 

 

“I hope hotdogs are okay, my cooking skills drastically decrease when over a campfire.” 

 

“Hotdogs are fine, but I wasn’t aware you had cooking skills over a regular stove either…” The fire made her eyes sparkle, a darker shade of green than he was used to seeing. 

 

“I’ve got lots of skills you haven’t seen before.”

 

“Is that so, Mr. Jones? And what might these skills be?”

 

“Well, maybe I’ll show you after we eat.”

 

“Or, you can show me and then we can eat.”

 

-

 

She woke up a few hours later, her stomach rumbling, reminding her of her lack of dinner. Her body ached from both exhaustion and everything they had done. Everything they had finally done. Her cheeks blushed thinking back on it, the way their bodies had moved together, it felt like their souls were connecting. She was no longer a novice, there had been a boyfriend her senior year, and then her college boyfriend, but neither of them had made her feel like he did. He had skills, that was certain, and she knew she was effectively ruined. She stretched, rolling over to curl into his side, feeling the chill of the morning breaking through their small tent, she made a mental note to thank Veronica for packing her bag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally home and rested up from our holiday travels! As always, thanks for all of the kudos/comments and love! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @theonlyemmaleigh


	8. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He held her hand tightly, not wanting to loosen his grip on her, not wanting to let her slip from his grasp. He’d been plagued with thoughts the last week, a decision finally made after a realization the night before.

August was draining, between the heat, moving into an apartment with Veronica and Kevin, shifts at the Sweetwater Coffee and preparing her classroom for her first semester as head of the English department at Riverdale High, she was exhausted. Her nights were spent wrapped up in his arms, and this feeling on contentment and happiness that she never wanted to forget how this felt . They had settled into a new routine, Pop’s, the river, movies at her apartment, spending as much time together as they could. He’d taken to bartending at the Whyte Wyrm, staying in his dad’s trailer on nights he didn’t stay at the apartment. The black jacket he’d worn when he was younger, only came out now when he was working, or when he was riding his motorcycle, the warm August air made it too hot to wear the remainder of the time. 

 

Her mother had insisted they both come for weekly dinners on Sunday, and her father had been thankful to have someone in the house to watch football all afternoon with. Watching him interact with them, her parents becoming more excepting of him, taking the time to finally get to know him and see past the black jacket he sometimes wore, made the giddiness she felt around him grow. 

 

Leaning back onto her new desk, she glanced around the room, double and triple checking that everything was in place. Her large white board held new dry erase markers, her bulletin board was decorated Blue and Gold, full of news about Riverdale High, the desks all arranged in perfect little rows. Monday would bring the start of a new adventure, her first-year teaching, her first year advising the Blue and Gold student newspaper. The classroom felt new, fresh and exciting, an entire year unblemished laying out before her, full of promise. 

 

Her back was turned to the door, going over once again the contents of her desk, but when she heard his voice, she spun around swiftly. 

 

“Miss Cooper, you are going to drive these high school boys crazy.” Today’s outfit consisted of his standard dark jeans, a dark t-shirt, lacking both the black jacket and his beanie. He hadn’t stayed over last night, he’d had a late shift at the Whyte Wyrm, and she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him. 

 

“Miss Cooper.” Today’s outfit consisted of his standard dark jeans, a dark t-shirt, his thick arms exposed, making her think of them wrapped around her waist. He hadn’t stayed over last night, he’d had a late shift at the Whyte Wyrm, and she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him. He was beanie-less today, and the bright sun shining in through the windows, illuminated his face, his eyes looked worn and tired, he was lacking his trademark smirk. 

 

“Jug, you look so tired!” She stepped across the classroom, her hands reaching up to graze along his cheek, as his hands perched themselves on her waist. 

 

“It’s nothing, just a long night at the Wyrm.”

 

“A long night? Jug- you look like you haven’t slept in days. Maybe it’s time to think about looking for another job, away from the Southside?”

 

“I know. You ready for lunch?”

 

-

 

He held her hand tightly, not wanting to loosen his grip on her, not wanting to let her slip from his grasp. He’d been plagued with thoughts the last week, a decision finally made after a realization the night before. She swung herself over the bike, wrapping her body tight around his, her arms gripping into his waist, her chest flush against his back. The drive through town was quick, almost too quick, but he soon had a grip on her hand again, holding the door for her as they walked into the diner. A small booth towards the back had been claimed as theirs, and she slid into the seat, sitting across from him. They ordered the usual- burgers and fries, one vanilla and one strawberry shake. 

 

Their food came out fast, and she’d kept the conversation going with her excitement for the start of the school year. He could tell she was happy, a flashback of that girl at 16 who danced around with the bottle of champagne, free and full of life. 

 

When the burgers and fries were cleared away, the waitress bringing them another round of milkshakes, he took her hand across the table, seeming to pull her back to him. 

 

“Betty. You said something earlier, about me leaving the Wyrm and getting another job…” He kept his eyes down, he couldn’t look up, he couldn’t see her face. “I did. I found one.”

 

“Oh, Jug, that’s so great! Why didn’t you tell me earlier? We should celebrate!” And that was why he couldn’t look up, why he couldn’t meet her eyes. She was happy for him, she was selflessly happy for him, and he couldn’t see the look he knew would flash across her face. He squeezed her hand, running his fingers across the back of it, one last moment of happiness. 

 

“Because it’s in New York.” He could hear her intake a sharp breath, like she’d been punched in the stomach. 

 

“Excuse me?” 

 

“New York. I took a job in New York.” Her hand pulled away from his, quick, and his eyes finally shot up to meet hers. That half smile that so frequently grazed her face, the sparkle in her eyes, was gone. So instantly, she looked like a shell, like she was curling inside herself, and he instantly wanted to take it all back, wanted to redo what had lead him to make this decision. “Betty, I can’t stay here. I can feel myself falling back into old habits, meetings with the Serpents, I can’t go down this path.”

 

“So, you’re just going to leave? You’re just going to leave me here? What am I supposed to do, I have a job, school starts on Monday.” Her voice was starting to crack, tears were starting to form in her eyes. “What if I asked you to stay?” 

 

“But you won’t. We both know that. You know I’m right, you know I can’t stay.” 

 

She slid her milkshake towards the middle of the table, walking swiftly out of the diner. He paid the bill and followed behind her, reaching for her hand again to help her onto the bike. He felt her body shake and tremble against his, her body gripping tight to the black leather that was tearing them apart. 

 

As soon as he stopped his motorcycle in front of her apartment, she pulled the spare helmet he kept for her off. Tears stained her face, tracks of mascara leaving black around her red, puffy eyes. He wanted to beg her to come with him, to tell her all the things he never did, tell her how much he loved her, how he’d loved her since they were 16. But he wouldn’t fill her with empty promises, that they would work through this, they’d done the long-distance thing for the first part of the summer, he knew this was it. There wouldn’t be any back and forth, no living for the lazy weekends spent curled into one another, no late-night phone calls about how much they missed one another. The cards had been stacked against them from the very beginning, since they were in high school, and maybe it was time to cut their losses. 

 

She stood in front of him still, rocking back on her heels, and he reached out to hold her, pulling her flush against his chest. A deep breath, that smell of vanilla and peonies, he would never forget that. He kissed her softly on the top of her head, but she pulled back, and her lips crashed against his. Their salty tears mixed together as her lips parted for him, begging him for more. When she finally pulled away, he ran his hand down her cheek, wiping away her tears, cradling her face, one last time. His hand trailed down to hers, wanting to hold her longer, to keep her in place, but she stepped back slowly, replacing her hand with the helmet, before turning slowly, walking back towards her apartment. He stood in place, frozen, watching her walk away, watching her turn around to meet his eyes one last time, before she pushed open the door. 

 

-

 

Laughter radiated from the kitchen as she stepped inside, a feeling of panic rushing over her. She slipped down the door, softly crashing to the floor, her body rocking back and forth, empty of tears. 

 

“Betty! You’re back early!” She didn’t glance up, didn’t move, but the click of heels on tile let her know Veronica had entered the room. “Betty? Betty, what happened?” 

 

Arms were around her, lean and strong, pulling her up to sit on the couch. She struggled through relaying the day’s events to them, she only wanted to forget. She wanted to forget everything, the way he looked at her, the smell of soap and cigarettes, the way her head fit so perfectly in his chest, she wanted to forget it all. Veronica ran her a bath, and with a glass of wine, she sank in. Her body had replenished her tears, and they mixed with the warm water. 

 

He had broken her once before, years ago, wounds that she thought had healed, but today he had so easily ripped them back open. She felt like her chest was caving in, her breathing erratic, and she could feel it, her nails begging to break through the barrier of her palms, to scar her again on the outside, the way he’d scarred her on the inside. 

 

No. She pushed her hands apart, standing up firmly, the water splashing out over the floor. She’d let him rule her emotions before, let her break her and throw her away. No more. Not again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are wonderful and amazing and I am so incredibly overwhelmed by the response to this!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @theonlyemmaleigh


	9. Broken Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was suddenly terrified, his palms sweaty. This had not been a good idea. A phone call, flowers, anything but this.

The skies were darkening around him, the wind whipping the car around the road as it curved over the hills that were guiding him straight into the storm. He knew everything about this was wrong, he knew he was being selfish and careless with her, but he needed to see her. He only needed to see her face, to know she was okay, but he knew she wasn’t. He knew one look at her and he’d see a blonde with her pair tied perfectly back, a light scattering of makeup, standing there perfectly poised, looking like a strong front to the outside world. But he also knew her better. He knew that her palms would be red and raw, matching the inside of her cheek that she chewed when she was nervous. She had always been the ray of hope in his dark life, that little spark that he held on to even all the years that they were apart, and today, that ray of light would dim, and he needed to see her. 

 

She deserved more than this. More than him. More than someone who was so easily scared away by the ever-looming reminder of his past gang life. But he couldn't help himself. He needed to see her, needed to make sure she was okay. He had failed her so many times before over the years, and he wouldn't let her down now.   
The winding mountain road gave way to the tall forest that lay on the outskirts of town. It'd been months since he'd been back, since he'd last seen her, turning around outside her apartment. He knew he should have asked her to go with him, begged her, but the events of the week before he left still plagued his nightmares, and he knew he'd made the right choice.

 

_It was late, the bar had closed and he was wiping down the bartop. His head was pounding from the loud music that was now quiet, and he was trying to hurry and finish locking up, so he could race to her apartment and back into her bed._

_The bell chimed over the door, and he looked up, meeting the face of his father. Back from a deal most likely, his white shirt bore remanence of a dark rust color, his knuckles were raw and split open._

_He felt like he was staring into the future, his future. A black jacket, blood stained shirt, bags under his eyes, alone in a bar, left years ago by the only woman who had truly loved him._

_It wasn't what he wanted for himself, and it wasn't what he wanted for her. She'd said so at 16, that she couldn't be a Southside girl, and he finally understood what she'd meant. It wasn't just the way they behaved, Toni and Sabrina, but the way they were hardened to this life, like blood stained shirts and bloody knuckles were a badge of honor._

_She was everything that was bright and good in his life, and he couldn't watch her become calloused to this. He couldn't look at her face as she struggled to wash blood out of his laundry, watch her eyes scrunch as she stitched a cut above his eye. He had to save her, and in turn, himself. He had to leave, because in that moment it was clear to him, that if he stayed, the only future he had was his fathers._

 

And now, in the same way that he had left to protect her, he found himself coming back to protect her. Sure, she didn't need him there, she could be strong without him, but he needed her to know, that she still mattered to him.

 

He had no idea what he was up against, what he was driving towards or what he was even going to do. All he knew, was Joaquin had sent him an article the day before, and now he was driving his rental car past the Welcome to Riverdale sign, donning a black suit and black tie.

 

-

 

It was an instinct that had woken her up from that deep sleep one finds themselves in at 3AM. Kevin’s phone, in the bedroom next to hers, ringing. She sat up straight in her bed, panic washing over her, her feet hitting the floor before her brain was fully awake. She met him in the hallway, his cellphone still in his hand but tears in his eyes.

 

“Betty. My dad called. You need to go home, now.” His hand reached out to steady her, her knees buckling from underneath her. Kevin woke Veronica, hushed whispers as she threw items haphazardly into a bag for her friend, and only 5 minutes after the phone call had startled her awake, she was being driven across town to the house she had grown up in. 

 

That had been three days ago, but the days were only marked by the rising and setting of the sun. Sheriff Keller had explained the accident, the best that he could, the words “killed on impact” forever ingrained in her mind. Her mother, who had always been the epitome of grace and poise, had not left her room in 2 days, leaving her to handle most things until Polly and Jason arrived. She was exhausted and emotionally strained, she hadn’t slept in the days since she’d been here for longer than an hour. Every time she started to drift off to sleep, she was overtaken with a new nightmare. Bright white lights, swirling across an icy road, tires that made no noise as they spun out, helpless to stop the path they were on. She always awoke to the sound of crashing metal, wood splitting, and then the deadest silence. 

 

The sun hadn’t come up yet, a quick glance at the clock reminded her she had several hours still until the days events would pull her out of the comfort of her childhood bedroom. Wrapped in the warm pink, her secret morning routine took place. It had been only a few months since that day he left her again, since the day she had vowed to never let him hurt her again. But she couldn’t help it, he was like an addiction and she was a hopeless addict, fighting a habit she never wanted to quit. She knew she should hit the button, a final block to push him away from her life. And maybe then she’d be able to heal, find something that made her whole again. But she couldn’t, not today. When today, of all days, she needed nothing more than to see his face. She clicked open the application, scrolling through the pictures that she had memorized, nothing new had been posted in weeks. He had started it really. Two weeks after he’d left, she had posted a picture of her with the small puppy Kevin had brought home in an attempt to cheer her up, and almost instantly, the notification had come through to her phone. **@j_jones_III liked your post.** And it’d continued like that, over the months, every single picture, almost instantly, she would see his face. Only about a two months ago had she given in and developed the habit of starting each day by staring at his account, but she had convinced herself that he had started it first. She was careful not to like or comment on his pictures, but she was there, lingering in the shadows of his Instagram account. 

 

He was this freedom and happiness she had longed for, memories of a teenaged rebellion, memories of the one who had saved her when she was drowning under her mother. Maybe it was wrong, clinging to the past, clinging to a relationship that had been so damaged from the very beginning. But he was so much more than just a relationship for her, more than just a boy she met at 16. He was a dream for her, a dream of how happy she had been, and now, scrolling through his pictures, felt like a faint reminder that that dream had been shattered. Because no matter how many times she scrolled past his pictures, no matter how many times she typed his number in her phone, no matter how many times she left a text unfinished, it didn’t change the fact that he had still left. 

 

She laid back against the pillows, her eyes never closing, watching as the hours passed, and light crept into her bedroom. By the time she had stepped out of the shower, Veronica and Kevin greeted her with a tray of toast and coffee. She sat in the vanity chair, letting Veronica work over her hair, lightly dusting her face with makeup. Her dark-haired friend helped her into the black dress she had brought over, and she stood for just a moment, alone in her bedroom after her friends had left to check on her mother. She pulled her phone out, one more time, scrolling through his pictures, only wishing she could see his face today. 

 

-

 

He was almost late, the roads were still icy and had held him up a bit, but he slipped into the church quietly, finding a spot in the last row and sinking in before he even looked around him. Sheriff Keller sitting suspiciously close to Mayor McCoy, the Lodge family still standing out in the sea of black, but it was the tall, broad shoulder boy sitting in the front row next to a blonde that he focused in on. He couldn’t see a face, only a full head of black hair, but his heart dropped, and he shifted closer towards the end of the bench, wanting to sneak out as silently as he had come, without her even knowing he was here. 

 

His path was blocked though, on both sides, as Joaquin and Archie had moved to fill the hole between him and the aisles, effectively closing him in. 

 

“Jug.”

 

“Do we know him?” His voice was silent, leaning in towards his friend dark haired friend, knowing he knew already what was in his head. 

 

“It’s Reggie Mantle.” The name sounded vaguely familiar to him, but it took him a minute. Riverdale football star, but then he remembered. He’d also met him a few times in high school, he used to run drops for the Serpents in exchange for some low-price marijuana. 

 

“Is it serious?”

 

“I’m not sure. She won’t talk to me about it. Kevin said its only been a few dates.” 

 

He was well aware of the fact that over the years, Betty had developed an odd friendship with Joaquin. He was fiercely protective of her, stemming from the night he had saved her from the Southside girls. Jughead had to admit, that although he was jealous that Joaquin maintained a close relationship with the girl who stared in his dreams, he was also thankful, but it selfishly made him feel like she was holding on to a part of him. 

 

He sat back against the bench as the service started, listening to hymns he didn’t know the words to. Jason spoke briefly, remembering a man who had been more of a father to him than his own and it reminded him of Hal over the summer- playing basketball in the driveway, manning the grill, football games on Sundays. He’d grown to like and respect the man over their time spent together, and even though he wasn’t his to mourn, he still felt pain for the man who had been kind to him. The rest, he didn’t remember, narrowing his eyes on her, watching every movement, or lack of. She sat stiffly in her seat, her back straight against the bench, her hands in her lap. She looked like she was barely breathing, but when she finally stood, solid between Polly and Veronica, her eyes were red. 

 

He watched her, the entire time. Watched as she greeted guest after guest, listening to their condolences and stories, smiling when polite. His eyes never left her, patiently awaiting his turn. The line adjusted, his tall height made him stand out, and he saw her eyes change, as they connected with his. Closer and closer to her the line moved, but she never broke away from his gaze. He couldn’t read her eyes, couldn’t tell if it was pain or anger or relief that was radiating from them, but he never looked away. He was suddenly terrified, his palms sweaty. This had not been a good idea. A phone call, flowers, anything but this. 

 

The line moved again, and he found himself standing directly in front of her. He watched as both Veronica and Polly stepped back slightly, leaving him just a fraction of an inch alone with her. Still watching her eyes, waiting for a sparkle, a smirk, anything to let him know he’d made the right choice in coming here today. Anything to let him know he wasn’t too late. 

 

He watched her chest heave, releasing a deep breath he wasn’t aware she’d been holding, and he used that moment to step closer to her, his hand grazing up her arm. He felt that pulse of electricity, and he knew she did too, it was always there when he first touched her. 

 

“I’m so sorry, Bets.” He couldn’t see her eyes, couldn’t read her face, but he stepped closer to her still, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on her cheek, before whispering softly in her ear. “And I’m sorry that I'm too late.”

 

-

 

The moment her eyes had locked on his, she felt life breathed back into her. On this, the worst day of her life, he was here. Looking for her, watching for her, being there for her even when she didn’t know he was. 

 

It had happened so fast, a matter of seconds had passed from the time he gripped her arm to the time he whispered in his ear, she hadn’t had a chance to register what was happening, let alone react to him. He had already turned to walk away, when her body caught up with her brain. 

 

He didn’t see her move. His back was turned. He didn’t see her step towards him. He didn’t see Veronica reach out, grabbing her arm to pull her lightly back. 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love doesn't always work out happily, sometimes its timing or distance or circumstances beyond your control, and sometimes the person you fall in love with is all wrong for you. This story is incredibly personal to me, so thank you for all of the love and support, kudos and comments!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @theonlyemmaleigh


	10. Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She just wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. Every time she had let him in, it had ended with her in tears- broken promises and broken dreams.

The first time it happened, was two days after the funeral, and she had been in such a fog, she hadn’t even realized it until after the fact. Her car was stopped at a red light in town, heading from her mother’s back to her apartment, when a blue truck pulled up next to her. She glanced only briefly over to the driver, smiling slightly. But the light changed, and she pulled away. 

 

A few minutes later, back at her apartment, it had hit her like a ton of bricks. The blue rusted truck. The grey beanie holding back a mess of ink black hair. The dark blue flannel sticking out from under the thick grey wool jacket. Those familiar grey eyes. 

 

Outside of her apartment, she sat in her car for a few minutes, trying to collect herself. He was still here. She had half expected him to leave without saying anything, or to show up half drunk on her doorstep. He had done neither, but he was still here. When she reached to grab her purse, she realized her hands were shaking, her body racked with adrenaline. 

 

Clearly there was something he wanted, or he would have already left. Maybe she should reach out to him, find out what his excuse was this time. But he was from here too, maybe he had only stayed a few extra days to see his father, catch up with friends. Suddenly, she felt naïve for being so selfish to think that she was the only reason he was still here. 

 

Inside her apartment, her mind was still reeling, but she was greeted with an odd half smile from Veronica, like she knew something she didn’t. 

 

-

 

It happened again about two weeks later. It was a Friday, and she had had a particularly hard week at school, Spring Break was quickly approaching, and her students were testing her limits. She stopped into Pop’s on her way home, this week was her turn to pick up their usual Friday take-out orders. 

 

She was sitting at the counter, catching up with Pop Tate, when the door chimed, and out of habit, she turned. He was standing there, momentarily frozen when her eyes met his. Dark jeans, dark flannel under that same thick grey wool jacket, grey beanie. He smiled as he walked by, a soft “Betty” murmured from his lips. She watched as he settled into a booth in the back, pulling out his laptop and ordering a coffee. Tugging on the sleeve of her pink wool coat, she twirled back and forth on her stool, trying to casually cast a glance in his direction. 

 

He was still here. It’d been enough time now, for him to visit with his friends and his father, but he was still here. Her mind was reeling with confusion and anger, trying to comprehend why he was still here. He was sitting right there, only feet from her, but there still such a distance between them. Why was he still here? Was he planning on leaving again, when? She slid off of her seat, resolved to approach him and finally get answers, when Pop came out from the kitchen, carrying her take-out bags. She thanked him, paying the bill, before glancing once more to the beanie clad man in the back booth. His eyes were glued to hers, and she raised a hand in silent acknowledgement before slipping out the door. 

 

She knew she could easily call Joaquin and inquire about why he was still in town, but she felt like it was something she needed to hear directly from him. She just wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. Every time she had let him in, it had ended with her in tears- broken promises and broken dreams. Her heart was still healing from the last time he’d left her, her dates with Reggie Mantle had fizzled out, seeing him at her father’s funeral, it was clear she wasn’t ready to move on yet. 

 

The apartment was abuzz in that post-workweek way Friday’s seemed to bring. A loud pop song blared over the speakers, and she was greeted at the door by the small pug named Clark that Kevin had brought home for her a few months ago. She placed the bags on the kitchen counter, bending to scoop up the small pup, who wiggled and squirmed in her arms, tongue jutting out to lick her face. Kevin and Veronica both entered the kitchen at the same time, the smell of food seeming to draw them in. 

 

“So, you’ll never guess who I saw at Pop’s.” She didn’t need to continue though, because both of her roommates’ faces bore a look of excitement as they both shared a secret smile. 

 

-

 

The third time it happened, was almost a month later. She’d been tasked with doing the weekly grocery shopping. The three roommates had a system of pooling together their money, creating a weekly menu, and taking turns doing the shopping. Often, one or both of her roommates would tag along even when it wasn’t their time to shop, but tonight, she was alone. Her favorite time to grocery shop was late on Saturday night, because the store was quiet, devoid of the usual suburban moms and their screaming children, allowing her time to walk the aisles slowly. It was almost therapeutic for her, casually working her way through her shopping list. She was standing in front of the salsas, trying to find the incredibly specific blend that Kevin had requested, since tacos were on the menu for tomorrow, when it happened. She’d haphazardly left her cart in the middle of aisle, the store was so quiet, she didn’t think it would be a problem. But no, someone had managed to bump into it, sending it careening down the row. She jumped up, chasing down the aisle after it, trying to catch it before it managed to take out an entire display of potato chips. She spun around to apologize for leaving her cart in the aisle, and was met with his face and his trademark half smirk. 

 

“I thought that was you.” 

 

“Sorry, I was trying to be quick and I didn’t think anyone else was around. I can’t find the salsa Kevin asked for…” Her voice started to trail off, lost in how close he was standing to her. Her heart was racing, staring up into his grey eyes. She felt like she’d been fighting off these feelings he gave her for months, quietly stalking his Instagram account, avoiding speaking to him when she saw him in town. She didn’t want to want him, didn’t want to still feel that magnetic pull towards him, but sometimes the person you want is all wrong for you, but your drawn to them anyways. “Hi.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper as she stepped closer towards him.

 

“Hi.” He closed the distance between them, wrapping his long arms around her, her hands fitting around his back to rest on his shoulder blades. She breathed into him, that all familiar smell of cigarettes and soap, she’d forgotten how easily she fit into him. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to pull away, didn’t want to ask him the million and a half questions she had. Alone in the grocery store, she just wanted to hold onto him, to feel him against her. The months since he’d been gone had been hard, she’d stayed up many nights crying herself to sleep in her bedroom, many mornings scrolling through his Instagram, only wanting to forget his face, but here, as he held her, she didn’t want to let this go. 

 

He pulled away first, his eyes dancing down playfully to meet hers. 

 

“I should probably let you get these groceries home, can’t let Kevin not have his salsa. But tomorrow, coffee at Sweetwater Coffee? I’ll pick you up around 11.” He hadn’t given her a chance to respond, squeezing her hand lightly before sauntering off down the aisle, leaving her alone in resuming her search for Kevin’s salsa. After a few more minutes of searching, she’d found one lone bottle, misplaced and tucked away behind some others. 

 

-

 

Once all of the bags were inside and put away, she settled into the silence of her apartment. Kevin had a rendezvous with Joaquin, something that had been happening more and more frequently over the months, and she was happy that her friends had found some sort of happiness together. She wasn’t sure where Veronica was, probably posted up in some club with her friend Josie, or out on date with whatever flavor of the week had managed to keep her attention. She paced around the kitchen, staring at the fridge but deciding there was nothing she wanted to eat, despite just having gone grocery shopping. She was searching for something, to take the edge off her nerves, or to satisfy that hole in her stomach, but she was coming up empty. She opened the freezer, hoping to find a frozen pizza, but instead coming up with a bottle of tequila. Drinking alone on a Saturday night seemed a little desperate and dark, but she needed something to take her mind off him. 

 

Reaching into the cupboard for a small shot glass, she was startled when she heard the front door shut, two male voices calling out to her. 

 

“Miss Bettttyyyyy!” His voice drawled out, clearly, they had already been drinking, but she was thrilled to see her friend. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been avoiding him, since the first time she’d seen Jughead at the stoplight, she hadn’t seen much of Joaquin. “Drinking alone on a Saturday night?”

 

“Not anymore.” She reached behind her, pulling down two more small glasses. “You’re joining me.” 

 

“Nope, B. Tequila is not my friend.”

 

“Tequila is no one’s friend, Kevin, that’s the fun in it.” She poured the liquid into the three glasses, sliding them across the counter towards her two friends. “So, tell me,” she said, throwing down the liquid in her glass, “when were either of you going to tell me Jughead Jones was still in town?”

 

“Did you run into him again?” Her eyes flitted up to meet Joaquin’s dark brown.

 

“Quite literally this time. He ran into my cart at the Pick-N-Save… wait? Again? How do you know I’ve ran into him before?” 

 

“He might not spend any time on the Southside anymore, but he does still talk to me, Betts.” 

 

In all the years that her and Joaquin had been friends, she’d never felt anything close to anger towards him, until now. Sure, she’d avoided telling him she’d seen Jughead, but he’d avoided telling her that he was still in town. It felt like there was something more, something everyone else knew except for her.

 

“Does he talk to you about why he’s still hanging around town? Why he hasn’t left yet?” She refilled the three glasses, sliding them back across the counter. Kevin’s face as he threw his glass back made her laugh. 

 

“Betty Cooper, are you still in love with him?” His face had gone from a wince to an inquisitive stare, but Kevin already knew the answer to his question. 

 

“We’re not shifting this back on me. This is about him. WHY is he still here?” Her hands were starting to shake, her anger taking over, as she reached for the bottle to refill her glass. Joaquin’s hands though, beat her to it, pulling the bottle out of her grasp. She stuttered, grasping at the air. “I wasn’t done with that…”

 

“No, Betts. I think you are. Let’s get you to bed.” He stepped around the counter, reached for her hand to help her from the bar stool. Her feet slipped slightly when they hit the floor, a combination of socks, tile and tequila. Joaquin’s arms reacted faster than her feet, catching her midway to the floor. He scooped her up, fireman style, her feet kicking the air helplessly, as he carried her down the hallway. She watched as he stepped towards her dresser, pulling open the first drawer, finding an old faded grey t-shirt with an ‘S’ on it. Tossing it over his arm, he searched the rest of the drawers, looking for a pair of sweatpants, finding them in the bottom drawer. He tossed the clothes on the bed, and stepped back to look at her. She’d fallen over onto the bed, her body become encased within the massive amounts of pillows she kept. 

 

“Up, Betts. Arms up.”

 

“No! You can’t watch me change.” 

 

“Trust me, Betts. I don’t want what you’ve got. Now arms up.” She finally relented, peeling off her sweater and her camisole, holding her arms up as her friend slipped the old worn t-shirt over her head. She reached around, undoing the clasp of her bra and pulling the straps out through the arm holes. 

 

“Whoa, Miss Cooper, that’s a pretty impressive trick.” 

 

“I thought you said I wasn’t your type…” Sticking her tongue out at him, she pulled down her leggings, and attempted to reach for the sweatpants that he’d tossed for her on the bed, but her legs were still caught in the leggings, and she started to trip, falling towards the ground. Again, his arms were faster than her feet, reaching out to catch her before she hit the floor. 

 

“Just because I don’t want to see what’s underneath, doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a good bedroom trick when I see one.” 

 

“’Quin, I know tricks that would make your toes curl.” 

 

“I don’t doubt that at all. Sleep good, Coop.” He had walked her over towards her bed, helping her pull the covers back before tucking the blankets up tight around her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead before he slipped quietly out of her bedroom.

 

-

 

She awoke to a pounding in her head and a pounding on her front door. She tossed around in the bed, groggy and unsure of what entirely was going on. She tried sitting up, but the whole room was spinning, and the sun was beaming in through the curtains a little too bright for her liking. 

 

The pounding on the door started again, becoming clear that neither Kevin nor Veronica was going to answer that. Her feet hit the floor, shaking as she stumbled getting out of the bed. She leaned against the wall as she walked down the hallway, anything to try to keep her balance. 

 

“Stop knocking.” She wasn’t sure who she was hollering at, but even her own voice was too loud. Pulling the door open without checking the peephole, she was surprised to see him standing there, yellow lilies in hand. Dark jeans, dark grey ‘S’ shirt, blue flannel tied around his waist. 

 

“Betty, are you wearing my shirt?” 

 

“Shit.” Bits and pieces of the night before were starting to come back to her. Running into him at the grocery store, the conversation with Kevin and Joaquin. She had a fleeting suspicion that Joaquin knew something like this would happen when he had pulled this particular shirt out of her drawer and handed it to her. “I forgot. Kevin and Joaquin and tequila. Come in, give me 30 minutes to shower and change.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot less tequila in this chapter than originally intended... 
> 
> As always- thanks for all of the love, comments and kudos!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @theonlyemmaleigh


	11. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, that explains why you left, and why you came back. But its been over a month. Why are you still here?” Her words cut into him, but he knew she needed answers, and not just lame excuses.

It’d been a few months since he’d been in her apartment, and everything was the same as it had been, except for the small yellow dog that kept bounding around his feet. He found a vase for the lilies in the cupboard over the fridge, putting them in water before settling down onto the couch, finally giving in to the tiny dog. Seeing her hungover, wearing his shirt, was not what he had expected when she opened the door, but it was something he thought he’d never forget. Disheveled, early morning Betty Cooper was always one of his favorites, before her hair was tamed and her face lightly dusted with makeup, sporting a carefully planned outfit. True to her form, almost exactly a half hour later, her bedroom door at the end of the hallway opened, revealing a blonde with her hair tied up into a perfect bun, black leggings and an oversized soft pink sweater. She slipped into a pair of tan heeled ankle boots, before turning to him, asking if he was ready to go. 

 

He wanted to reach out, grab her hand, pull her in closer and graze his lips across hers, tell her all the ways he was sorry. But instead, he followed behind her, his hand hovering over her back, as she locked the front door and stepped down the stairs. 

 

He held the door open for her, as she slid into the truck across the driver’s seat, unlocking the door for him, a little ritual from years ago, that had never died out. They rode in silence through town, towards the coffee shop that held so many happy memories from the past summer. 

 

Again, he held open the door for her, his hand hovering so close above her back. Without hesitating, she walked straight towards the booth in the back that they had marked as theirs. He stopped at the edge, watching her, slinking so low in the booth, before he sat across from her, hands automatically reaching to adjust the creamers in the middle, so he could better see her face. 

 

She looked broken and lost, like a shell of the girl he’d left behind. Leaving had been hard, days spent wanting to reach out to her, wanting to call her, wanting to come rushing back to Riverdale, but he hadn’t realized what his decision had done to her. What his decisions had always done to her. How many times had he led her to believe him, only to break her and leave her? He could blame it all on the Southside, on its pull over him, but the fact remained that he had left her too when he left the Southside. 

 

The waitress came to the table, some new girl that didn’t recognize either of them. The blonde in front of him hadn’t picked up the menu in front of her yet, but he ordered for her anyways, watching the way her eyes seemed blank behind their green stare. 

 

“Coop?” 

 

She blinked several times in quick succession, running her hand up to tighten her ponytail out of habit, before realizing she’d chosen a knot today. 

 

“Sorry. I guess I’m a little out of it this morning. I’m still trying to process everything.” Her voice was soft, almost raspy still, and he tried not to laugh at the way she was struggling to take in everything going on around her. 

 

Maybe he should have cancelled when she answered the door wearing his shirt, proclaiming a rough night of tequila, waited for another day when she wasn’t hungover to talk. But she was nothing if not determined, and he saw it, when her eyes flashed up to meet his. A green that sparkled but a glare that cut. 

 

“Are you going to tell me now, why you’re still here?” The first sip of her white chocolate mocha had breathed a life back into her, that fighting Betty Cooper pushing through to the surface. 

 

He breathed out a deep sigh, his gaze dancing down to his mug of black coffee, before he began. He started with that night in the Whyte Wyrm with his father, the realization of all that he would become if he stayed in Southside. He told her about all the ways he thought he was saving her, how much he regretted not fighting more for her, not asking her to come with him. 

 

He told her about when Joaquin sent her the article, how he knew he needed to see her, to make sure she was okay. His hand reached out to graze hers lightly, as tears had started to well in her eyes, remembering the reason he had came back. 

 

“So, that explains why you left, and why you came back. But its been over a month. Why are you still here?” Her words cut into him, but he knew she needed answers, and not just lame excuses. He slipped cash under the bill for the waitress, reaching for her hand as he stepped from the booth. 

 

“If you’re up for a drive, there’s something I need to show you.”

 

She fiddled with the radio, trying to find something other than static or country music, but coming up empty handed, opting instead to plug her phone in, flipping through her Pandora station. He relaxed a little bit, seeing how comfortable she was making herself in his truck. She didn’t speak, only leaning her head on the window, watching the trees pass by. When they crossed over the Sweetwater Bridge, about 20 minutes outside of town, she finally turned to look at him, that same questioning look she’d had on her face all morning. 

 

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Her green eyes danced over to meet his, that same questionable look she’d had all morning, but the playful sparkle was back. 

 

“Nope. But we’re almost there.” He turned the truck off the highway, taking the main road that lead into Greendale. After two stoplights, he turned into a subdivision, the road curving around the houses until he reached the back. He pulled into the driveway of a small white house, and put the truck in park.

 

“This is why I’m here, Betts.” Her eyes never left his, as he explained to her how the publishing firm he’d been working at had been absorbed by a larger company and his position cut just after the Christmas holidays. He’d stayed in New York, debating what to do and where to go next, working the odd shifts either bartending or at a coffee shop, trying to stay on his feet. About two weeks before Hal’s death, he’d found himself browsing the job sites, expanding his search closer and closer towards Riverdale, until he found it. A full-time position, a small start-up publishing house in Greendale, located 30 minutes outside of Riverdale, and almost a full 50 from the black leather jackets of his past. Close enough to see her, but far enough away from them.

 

“The job doesn’t start until May, but there really wasn’t any point in me staying in New York, I was just throwing money away that I didn’t have. So, I sold my bike and put a down payment on this place. It’s not ready yet, it needed to be completely gutted and re-drywalled, some mold problem, but that’s how I got it so cheap…”  
“I’m happy for you, Jug. I really am. But…” When her voice started to trail off, he knew what was coming. “But I don’t think I can just run back to you. I don’t think I can trust you, I can’t shake this feeling that you’ll leave me again…” Shakingly, she reached up to wipe at the tears that had started to fall from her face. 

 

“Betts,” he reached out to grasp her hand in his, steadying her, “I’m here, I’m staying. However long it takes to make you trust me again, I’m here. I want to be with you, I want to make this right, but I think we need to start over again. Try just being friends for a while.”

 

“Friends. That’s a new concept.” As he guided the truck back towards the highway and back towards Riverdale, he could almost feel it, the shift in her- the way she sank back further in the truck seat, the way she hummed along with the song on the radio. The smallest glimpse, the smallest ray of hope, that maybe she still wanted to be near him.

 

-

 

She was silent for the trip back to Riverdale, trying to process recent events, a flood of emotions running through her. He was here. He ways staying. He was giving her time. To process and heal and decide what she wanted, for herself and for them. 

 

She’d spent the entire day, trying to fight the urge to sit closer to him, to reach out and touch his arm or tangle his fingers with hers. She watched his lips as he talked and wanted nothing more than to hush his with hers. 

 

Outside of her apartment, he pulled her in close to him, his hand brushing up her arm. Like a habit, her arms wrapped around his waist, settling into their place on his shoulder blades as she leaned her head on his chest. He’d been careful not to touch her all day, he was respecting her and the boundaries she’d unknowingly been setting, but breathing in his scent made her forget what she was fighting. Running his hand through her hair, he pulled away, kissing the top of her head softly, and whispering her a soft ‘see you soon.’

 

Friends. That’s certainly a new concept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here-have this little piece of happiness! The volume is working on every other channel EXCEPT for the CW right now, so I can't watch tonight's episode, so have this instead! 
> 
> Thanks for all of your support!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @theonlyemmaleigh


	12. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She stepped closer, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and for a moment, he thought his heart would stop. But then he saw visions in his mind, times she had greeted and kissed Kevin, Joaquin and Archie in the same way.

Finally, the snow had melted, the ground unfroze, and spring arrived in Riverdale. Birds were chirping, and the sun was shining, finally breaking through the grey clouds. What had once been white snow-covered lawns, became brown mud, before the fresh green grass broke through. Everything was coming alive again after the dead of winter, new beginnings and new growth.

 

And across the river from the small town of Riverdale, in a small white house, a boy was trying to start over himself. He was trying to only text her once a day. He was trying to only see her once a week. He was trying to not hold her hand when he saw her, trying not to pull her in to his side. He was trying to only be her friend.   
After all, it was an idea he had come up with on his own. The first few months had been tough, trying to figure out where to start when starting over. He had made an honest effort to only text her every few days outside of the group text Veronica insisted they all take part in. He asked her about school, and Clark, about her mom, anything he could think of to keep her talking. He had fought hard to only see her once a week, again at the insistence of Veronica Lodge, who claimed since everyone was now back in town, weekly friends’ dinners were mandatory. 

 

And that was were it had shifted. Fridays meant dinner at the apartment in Riverdale. Their little routine had gone on without a hitch well into April when it first happened. He had wandered into the kitchen where she was shredding chicken for the chili she had made, and he slunk against the doorframe, watching her move. Black leggings, oversized grey sweatshirt, she looked so calm and peaceful moving around the kitchen, he didn’t want to disturb her, but she spun around and her eyes had caught his. That same green he’d been dreaming about for years, a hint of that old sparkle. He felt the familiar electric current pulse through his arm when she reached out, stroking his elbow gently. 

 

“Hey, Juggie!” She stepped closer, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and for a moment, he thought his heart would stop. But then he saw visions in his mind, times she had greeted and kissed Kevin, Joaquin and Archie in the same way. As if on cue, their quiet moment was interrupted, as Archie came bounding in from the other room, pushing past him and searching through the pantry, before grabbing a bottle of tequila and bouncing out as quickly as he had come. 

 

Hours later, the friends had settled on the couches and floor around the wooden coffee table, a game of Cards Against Humanity that had gotten increasingly more inappropriate as the tequila bottle had emptied, the loser of each hand taking a shot. She had settled onto the floor next to him, her cold bare feet brushing against his when she got excited about the cards in her hand, and as the night had worn on, feeling the effects of the tequila and the wine Veronica had cracked open, she was leaning further and further into his side. One by one, friends would leave to go to the bathroom and not come back, or like Joaquin, blatantly fall asleep, sitting straight up on the couch, his mouth agape. He looked down at the tiny blonde, who had, at one point in the last hour, fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, and he leaned down, kissing the top of her head lightly. Scooping her up, he carried her to her bedroom, leaving her a bottle of water and some aspirin on her bedside table before calling a cab and slipping out of the apartment. 

 

She had said she wanted to be friends. That she wanted to start over, rebuild the trust that had been long ago broken between them. But the way she slunk into his side, curled her arm under his, leaned her head on his shoulder, left him confused as to if she knew what she was doing, or if her mind had changed. 

 

The next week, everything was different. On Monday, she sent him a Happy Monday meme of a small puppy stuck in a coffee mug. On Tuesday, she sent him a picture of her salad from lunch, captioned “imagining this is a burger from Pop’s”. On Wednesday, it was camel gif, and on Thursday, she called to ask him to meet her for coffee after school. The following week continued the same, and the week after that, and it soon became their secret ritual. Thursday Coffees. Sometimes, she would bring tests to grade, or he’d bring a piece he was working on for her to read over, but a few times they just sat in silence together. Those silent Thursdays were starting to mean the most to him, because maybe she felt it too, that magnetic pull, so strong that she just needed to sit in the same space as him. 

 

-

 

She knew what she was doing was wrong, toying with him, texting him at all hours of her day, calling to ask him for coffee, slinking into his side after too much wine on a Friday night. But she couldn’t avoid him, avoid the pull she felt towards him, the calmness that came over her when he entered a room. No longer was just scrolling through his Instagram in the morning enough to feed her addiction, but she needed more. She was felt ready for more. 

 

Still hanging in the back of her mind, was that constant reminder of all of the times he had left her before, and the words “friends” falling from his mouth. She knew the look in his eyes when she curled under his arm while they watched a movie on her couch, the way his arm wrapped tight around her waist if they fell asleep. She knew the way his hand would wrap around hers sometimes when she let him drive her car, but she didn’t know the way he felt about her. Kevin and Veronica had picked up on the shift in her affections towards him, calling her out one Saturday morning after they had been discovered curled into one another on the couch after another late-night movie binge, and over bacon and mimosas, that’s when she realized her biggest fear. That he had changed his mind about her, that all he really wanted anymore was to be friends. That she had waited too long, taken too long to trust him again, to realize how she felt. She knew she had to make a move soon, before they were too far settled into their new friendship to turn back, and with the help of Veronica and Kevin, and an unsuspecting Joaquin, a plan was put in place.

 

-

 

Joaquin was the only other person he knew who hated his birthday as much as he did. Always, the two had spent theirs commiserating together over old movies and bottles of alcohol, and they had already created plans to spend Joaquin’s doing exactly that. But again, Veronica Lodge had intervened, stating they were all well overdo for a night out together. 

 

And that was how he found himself here. In a crowded bar in Riverdale, some newer establishment built that Veronica’s dad had built called The Lodge. It wasn’t much different than the Whyte Wyrm or the bars he’d frequented in New York, which was odd when thinking about who the owners were. It was fairly standard as far as bars go, except for the game room, which seemed to draw customers from all of the surrounding cities. Mixed in amongst the standard pool tables and darts were two large shuffleboard courts and a four-foot-tall game of Connect Four. Thankfully, the whiskey was strong and the food was good, so he was running low on things to complain about. He leaned with his back against the pool table, rolling the stick between his hands, when he hears Joaquin’s voice from across the table.

 

“Thought you said it was just us tonight. Ultimate betrayal, man.” His voice was muffled by the cracking of pool balls, landing another solid in the pocket.

 

“Sorry, it’s hard to say no to her.” As he turned around to face his friend, he noticed the group that had pushed inside the bar, the group that had given him away. He stood frozen, watching her slowly walk towards him, watching as grown men spun around in their chairs to watch her again. A dark navy long sleeved shirt tucked into a black jean skirt that was shorter than the ones she usually wore, her blonde hair falling freely in waves over her shoulders. 

 

“To Veronica, or to Betty?” Joaquin had moved closer to him, a soft whisper just briefly before the group reached them. He knew the answer without asking. Jughead could never say no to Betty. 

 

And he didn’t. Not when she challenged him to a game of Connect Four, not when she ordered a round of tequila shots for the group, not when she grabbed his hand, pulling him with her out to the dance floor when that same Chainsmokers song came on, the same one that had been haunting them for years. 

 

For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do. It felt like there was a line that had been drawn through their friendship- forehead and cheek kisses, sometimes the holding of hands, his arm draped over her as she slept, those were okay things to do. But when she placed her hands on his arm, looping the other tight around his back and leaning into his chest, it didn’t feel like something that friends do. He could feel her breath on him, her head fitting into his chest like a puzzle piece, and he leaned down, closer to her. Breathing in her hair, that smell of vanilla and peonies, he kissed the top of her head softly, their bodies swaying together to the familiar song. She pulled away from their close embrace, her green eyes flitting up to meet his. 

 

“Jug, I…” Her voice was quiet against his chest, something more that she wanted to say, needed to say, but the song ended, changing quickly to some upbeat pop song, and she slunk away from his side. His hand trailed out after her, wanting to chase her down and hear the rest of what she had to say. 

 

-

 

Outside, the air was quiet, a soft breeze reminding her that summer was coming soon, but not quite here yet. She wrapped her arms around her chest, rubbing her hands on her arms, pacing down the sidewalk. When she looked up to meet his eyes, she had seen it in his, and she panicked. Giving in felt almost like admitting defeat, admitting that they could never be just friends, admitting that despite all the hurt they had caused each other over the years, he was still it. 

 

She had wandered two and a half blocks away, down in front of Sweetwater Coffee when she realized it. He was it. He had always been it. Since she was 16, it had been him. The one that she wanted to call first when something good happened, the one she had wanted to call first when her father had died. The one she wanted to hold her when she slept, and hold her hair when she drank too much. The one, that despite leaving her before, she knew would never leave her again. 

 

Thankful for choosing flats instead of heels, she started to run back towards The Lodge, back towards him. She pushed through the door, staggering on her feet as she tripped into someone who had been coming out the door at the same time. Without looking up, she knew the arms that had kept her from hitting the floor, the scent of cigarettes and soap that was so familiar to her. Pulling back slightly, she wrapped one hand firm around his arm, settling the other on his chest. 

 

“Betts…” His grey eyes were stormy, staring deep directly into her soul.

 

“Jughead. I’m sorry. I can’t only be your friend.”

 

His movement was so fast, his hands moved up to hold her face, tilting her head up slightly as he bent down, his lips grazing softly against hers. His voice sent shivers down her spine as he whispered the same sentiments in her ear, before his lips crashed into hers again, harder this time. She sighed, leaning closer into him, pressing her chest tight against his as his tongue fought for entrance into her mouth. She didn’t care that they were in the middle of a bar. She didn’t care that their friends were looking on, or that she could hear them hollering at them in the background. She only cared about this, this moment right here, with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still following this story, I am so very much in love with you! I know this back and forth isn't always popular, especially after last weeks episode, so thanks for sticking around with me!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @theonlyemmaleigh


	13. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day he came home from work to the smell of vanilla candles. Creamer in his fridge, peony scented body wash in his shower, heels in his hall closet.

It had happened so slowly, one small thing at a time. Almost a month after he kissed her at The Lodge, he’d opened his bathroom cabinet, finding a pink toothbrush that hadn’t been there the night before. A few weeks later, a new face lotion found a home on his bathroom sink, the following week he found a drawer that contained a spare foundation and tube of mascara. 

 

It made sense, and truthfully, he was guilty of the same. At her apartment in Riverdale, she had cleared out a drawer for him in her dresser, filled it with spare shirts and flannels for nights he stayed over. 

 

They hadn’t talked about it, about what these small things meant, but they just kept happening. One day he came home from work to the smell of vanilla candles. Creamer in his fridge, peony scented body wash in his shower, heels in his hall closet. 

 

It had happened slowly, over the course of over a year, half of her things in her apartment in Riverdale, half of her things at his house in Greendale, until one night when she called him, and told him it had finally happened. The next week, the remainder of her things were packed into boxes that sat in his spare bedroom.   
Almost a month after the rest of her boxes had arrived, he woke up alone on the couch, Clark tucked between his arm and the couch pillow, his small golden head resting on his chest. The house felt cold and lonely, lacking the warmth and laughter that seemed to follow her. Veronica Lodge, in all of her “traditional” glory, had insisted on one final sleepover. He stretched his body out, his limbs cracking from sleeping on the couch. Clark whimpered softly before burying himself back down between two couch pillows, not ready to face the day yet.

 

_Just a few hours._ He tried to keep repeating that to himself, while he drank his coffee alone, while he showered alone, while he dressed in his suit, alone. _Just a few hours._

 

-

 

She felt like she hadn’t slept at all, not feeling his arms secure around her waist. Despite her objections, Veronica had insisted on one final night just the three former roommates, forcing them all to stay at her new townhouse in Riverdale. It wasn’t that she hadn’t enjoyed herself, wine, massages and mani-pedis, but she missed waking up next to him, missed their morning routine, missed him. She hadn’t set out to move in with him, it had happened slowly over time, and then Veronica had dropped the bomb on her that she wanted to get her own house, and she found herself moving her boxes into the white house in Greendale. 

 

As much as she had wanted to sleep in, Veronica had them all on a tight schedule, and hair and makeup was scheduled to arrive within an hour. She struggled through her morning coffee, through her shower, wrapping herself in a silk robe, staring at the dress that hung in Veronica’s living room. 

 

One of the perks of being best friends with Veronica Lodge had always been the pampering. She was plucked and primped, her hair curled and flowing down her back, a heavier dusting of makeup than she usually wore, but nothing that was too dramatic. She found herself spinning in circles in her vanity chair, still wondering why she hadn’t been able to get ready at her own house before meeting her friends, when she heard a knock at the door, and then that familiar voice. She felt her heart start to race as she stepped into the hallway, hearing Veronica scold him and tell him he shouldn’t be there, but she stepped around her, pushing her raven-haired friend aside. 

 

“Jug.” Leaning into his chest, his arms wrapping around her waist, she wondered how it was possible that she had missed him so much, when she had only seen him 12 hours ago. “You’re supposed to be keeping track of Joaquin…”

 

At the sound of his name, Kevin Keller came skidding into the hallway, dark dress pants with his white button up undone over his white under shirt. 

 

“Why does Jughead need to keep track of Joaquin? He’s not getting cold feet, is he? Oh, my dad is going to kill me. I’m going to have to pay him back for everything. This is a disaster. I can’t breathe…” He spun around in a dazed circle before he crashed into the couch, sinking down into the pillows. 

 

“Kevin, breathe. Joaquin is fine, he’s safely with Archie. I only came by to see Betty.” Grey eyes darted down to catch her green, greeting her with a slight smirk. “I miss you this morning…” He leaned further into her, closing that distance between them, softly grazing his lips over hers. 

 

“I miss you too.” Her lips moved over his, a soft whisper escaping from them. “But you really left Joaquin alone with Archie?”

 

“I know, not my greatest decision. I love you, I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

 

-

 

The wedding was both extravagant and simple, perfectly fitting of Joaquin and Kevin. Two polar opposites that had found each other and survived despite the cards being stacked against them. He’d tried to focus on the grooms, in their matching dark black tailored suits, but the blonde in the pale lavender dress had stolen his heart, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Leaning back against the bar, twirling a whiskey and soda in his hand, he watched her as she danced with one groom and then the other. Instinctively, his hand went to the small box in his pocket that he’d taken to carrying every where with him, not sure yet of when, but thinking of a plan. 

 

The soft chiffon of the dress trailed out around her as she sauntered across the room, her eyes glued to his as she came closer and closer. As she sank into his side, his arm came to drape around her waist, pulling her tighter to him as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. 

 

“Take me home, Juggie.” Her voice was raspy, her eyes were dark. He trailed his hand down her arm, wrapping his fingers around hers, pulling her out to their car. 

 

-

 

Now that the summer months were in full swing, both school and the wedding over, she finally found time to unpack the few boxes that were left still in the spare bedroom. Books, some clothes, a few things for the kitchen. One box was marked _High School_ , opening it up brought a flood of emotions. Pictures of her, Veronica and Kevin, squeezed into a booth at Pop’s, milkshakes in a line in front of them. One of her on Joaquin’s back, her blonde hair falling into his face, the picture blurred as the two friends spun around in a circle. The original three friends, in bright blue graduation caps and gowns. A picture of her and Veronica, in their River Vixen uniforms, her blonde hair tied back in a perfect ponytail by a bright blue bow. 

 

There it was, at the very bottom of the box. Thick polyester, bright royal blue with soft gold and white striping, a large R in the middle of the chest. She held it up, stretching the skirt out in her hands. From the box, she pulled out a bright white body suit. It had been years since she had seen her uniform, years since she had tried it on. She stood up slowly, moving quietly to shut the door to the spare bedroom, leaving herself alone to relieve a memory. The white body suit was snugger across her chest than she remembered, but the top shell and skirt fit over her new curves with ease. She twirled around in the room, feeling a sense of nostalgia wash over her. This uniform held so many memories for her, cheering at games and competitions, it had given her a sense of belonging that she had been chasing when she was younger.

 

She moved back to the door, opening it softly and peeking her head down the hallway, remembering also long-ago Friday’s spent getting ready for games in his childhood bedroom. She heard the soft patter of feet in the kitchen, heard him mumble something to Clark as she stepped down the hallways towards him. 

 

His back was turned away from her, and she stepped softly behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She felt his arms come up to meet her hands, landing on the soft, white body suit, rubbing the material softly before realizing what he was feeling. He spun around in her arms, a mischievous grin on his face as he took in the sight of her, standing in front of him, in their kitchen, in her old cheerleading uniform. Her feet left the floor, his arms lifting her up and planting her on the counter, his body pushing closer into her. 

 

Wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers trailed in his hair, her eyes darting up to challenge him. Something shifted in that moment, staring into his dark grey eyes. All the years ago, when she first met him, she had found freedom and a sense of rebellion in him that she’d been craving, a relief from the pressures to be perfect. But here, now, her legs wrapped around his waist, sitting on their kitchen counter in her old uniform, staring into his eyes, it wasn’t freedom and rebellion staring back at her, but home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the love and support through this, I know it's not always been easy! I tied a lot of personal experience into this, and I am so thankful for all of you who have reviewed, shared, and sent kudos! I am SCREAMING my thank you's!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @theonlyemmaleigh


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